


my only wish is you

by hausofval



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Character Development, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/F, I will add tags as I update, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hausofval/pseuds/hausofval
Summary: After mutual feelings being released and a shocking revelation, Mildred Ratched and Gwendolyn Briggs find their way to each other and begin a healing process, both mental and physical. It is arduous and complex, especially when the personalities of the two women collide with memories of lies drenched in blood, but the tide always subsides because all they need is each other.A set of chapters with the lost scenes of the relationship of Mildred Ratched and Gwendolyn Briggs, prioritizing their development as a couple, from their first kiss to their new lives in Mexico.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 29
Kudos: 178





	1. The kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, Ratched (2020) does not belong to me. I'm just a fan of the work of Evan Romansky and Ryan Murphy, and Sarah Paulson and Cynthia Nixon, and I just want to celebrate it. This is the work of a fan to fan.
> 
> You can find me as @hausofval on any social media.

There is something attached to Mildred Ratched's impulsive nature, the desire to escape. In the redhead's first years living at the orphanage, she daydreamed about the day that her mother would regret leaving her and will return to pick her up. In her daydream, they would leave together towards the endless rainbow that appeared in the window of their community room on all rainy afternoons, and they would be happy, just like every mother and daughter should be. 

When she was adopted for the first time, the redhead believed that she would never dream of escape again, but the couple, who instead of taking care of her, hurt the skin off her back, just made this desire blossom more and more, just like a flower in the spring. First, she dreamed of being rescued, then that rescue would result in a loving home, with lovely adults to take care of her, but when the reality completely opposed to her desire overwhelmed her, every single morning, her dream was focused on imaging her escape. 

In that first house, there were other orphans like her, but the cruelty of those responsible for that place was rooted in every gesture of those around her, who humiliated her more and more, and every night Mildred whispered towards any entity with the power to listen to her, to help her escape. 

But nobody heard. And if someone heard, nobody helped. 

And thanks to that, a full of unhappiness routine was present in the early years of the redhead's adolescence. When Edmund appeared, he was the only sweet thing in all the sorrow that was her life, so she shared her dreams with him and, day after day, they began to dream of running away. Dream to escape. Always together. 

They tried so many times, but it was like if they both ran in circles, always back to all the torment they had previously experienced, the only tangible difference that the faces that would cause their unhappiness would be the new ones. 

Until the final escape happened. 

Amid all the chaos and all the blood, Mildred managed to escape, but she went alone. She had to go alone. And having to do that broke her heart in two. 

From the eternal search for her brother, always without a happy conclusion, to the unfortunate jobs, her years serving in the army and all the struggle to a reconciliation with the boy who saved her all those years ago, everything in Mildred's live was another face of her unhappy past and, even without realizing it, she ended up dealing with everything as she always did. 

She was always running away. Always scaping from everything. 

She ran away because everything in her life was bad and hurt her, the scar always growing in her chest or in her mind, and so Mildred Ratched kept running away, escaping from everything bad like the tormented child that she was when she still had hopes and dreamed of something good in her life. 

But that something good appeared, with green eyes, blond hair and an impressive amount of courage and facility when it came to discovering and surprising her. Gwendolyn Briggs. But Mildred did exactly like every other time, even though she struggled to get around her instinct. Mildred Ratched ran away. 

Mildred liked to have the blonde one around, and then she rejected Gwendolyn's flirtatious actions, even when the redhead greatest desire was to accept them, and regretfully she planted another vestige of hope in the older woman's chest, but only until the cycle began again. When she was running away again. 

She was scared and was afraid. Afraid for her past, her present and the possibility of her future, and, as if that were not enough, Mildred was afraid of the unknown feel, impossible to ignore, that grew in her heart with each look, touch and moments shared between her and the governor's secretary. Mildred was afraid of how desperate her soul became when the blonde's blood began to paint the carpet and the sunny eyes that always directed heat in her way, lost their shine before the imminent faint in the middle of the dance. She was afraid of how free her tongue got, ready to tell everything that she knew and felt to the unconscious woman, hoping that some of her children's fairy tales were real, and her voice would awaken the blonde woman who lived permanently in her thoughts. She was afraid of how helpless her authority became when the blonde demanded some substantial explanation for her hysterical crisis in the middle of the puppet show, and how sweet her green eyes were after sharing with Gwendolyn the source of her worst nightmares.

And so she thought about running away. Escaping from that. But what exactly she was walking away from? Since all her secrets and fears were mixed and exposed to the blonde woman that she silently desired? 

But, as a surprising move, Gwendolyn ran away first. 

The hotel room that she lived in became empty, no missed calls were returned. Gwendolyn had scaped between her fingers. 

But Mildred, for the first time, was tired of running away. She was tired of escaping. 

So the redhead's unbridled urge for distance of everything was replaced by the relentless desire for someone's presence, and she found herself standing in front of the cream house, ringing the bell, wishing more than the air that filled her lungs, that Gwendolyn Briggs would let her in. And if she did, Mildred knows that she won't ever want to escape again. 

Gwendolyn Briggs was never a dreamer. She never liked to study the past during her school years, always preferring the clear logic of the exact sciences. She never liked stories too, trapped since childhood in a criticism that never makes sense to her mother. And Mureen Harris always knew that, below the clear eyes inherited from her husband, their child, Gwendolyn, was different. 

The blonde girl always cared for her stability and self-control. She always had a careful and prudent soul, which helped her to filter what deserved her attention and what didn't. Conclusively, that small significant touch of her personality made the search for knowledge supreme for Gwendolyn, and that eventually become more than notable in relation to the people around her, and she never liked to hide or deny it. 

But in her work in politics, she was forced to learn actions to keep her mind sane. How to listen and agree with exclamations that went against her ideals or how to ignore sexist comments from employers and teachers. And she managed to maintain her performance perfectly in almost all aspects, but everything fell apart when she was in love. 

It seems that the logical part of her mind melts, instigating the most foolish impulses to explode in her actions, instigated by this devastating feeling. 

It was like this when she had a tiny crush on her English teacher. She was 15 years old and it was so easy for her to be distracted looking at Miss. Virginia during the explanations and the result of that was soon explicit in her school grades. If Gwendolyn closed her eyes, she could still hear the distinctive sound of her father's voice, asking what was wrong with her concentration, but she was too embarrassed to explain and just tried her best to return to her indifferent routine. 

But it happened again, at the end of her teenage years and lasted until the first years of her adult life, and her instincts became even more primordial and impulses. Because she was loved back and at the same level. But the hands that touched Gwendolyn so sweetly should be healing injured soldiers during World War II, and so, with distance and eventually a note of death, the blonde managed to regain control of her own life in her grief. 

But here she was again, in love. In love with Mildred Ratched. 

Only the sight of the chocolate-brown eyes inflated Gwendolyn's heart and she felt that her chest was too small to support it when any trace of a smile stained Mildred Ratched's lips. She doesn't know why, but her heart begged all the nights to her arms to stretch out and look for the redhead in the infinity of the empty sheets, in the useless hope of feeling her. As if Mildred was once resting among them. And nothing made sense. It was illogical and stupid the way she fell in love, so intensely and without explanation, but still, she did. 

And, after all, there were two significant problems. 

The first one was the mixed signals that Mildred offered her. 

First, the redhead accepted her flirtations, then she pushed her away, and that made Gwendolyn's head spin, and then the nurse dedicated an insignificant bit of her affection and hope to the blonde one, and she melted in her arms. It happened in the hospital, in the restaurant, in the bar... Mildred pulled her away and pulled her close in the same intensity, and Gwendolyn couldn't get rid of this reality for how in love she was and how flexible she became when Mildred pulled her back. The nurse's face filled her thoughts day and night, and the blonde just couldn't build up the strength to push her away. 

The second problem was what that feeling cost her. 

Her job, her facade in the form of a marriage, her home... Every time that Mildred's words in the restaurant after their little trip to watch a puppet play days earlier, echoed in her mind, more betrayed the blonde felt. When the governor decided that Edmund would be executed, her impulses forced words to jump out of her lips, trying her best to defend the brother of the one that she loves. And for what? 

Now here she was, alone, sick and hopeless, saying goodbye to her home for the past few years, and to her best friend and partner. 

She thought about what she had and what she could saw in the future. A better life for both of them was what he said that they both could have, but Gwendolyn was no longer sure. Mildred's flushed face, telling her that she had feelings for her, continued to be present in her heart, even with the calls she didn't return, with the goodbye she didn't give, and it only hurt her more. 

The next few moments pass like a blur in her mind, until the doorbell rings. For a second, the blonde imagines that Travor forgot something and decided to dramatize his return to the home that he shared with Gwen, as he affectionately called her, but the face that she wanted to erase from her mind was the one materialized when the blonde opened the door. 

For a second, Gwendolyn thought she was wrong when she imagined Mildred's eyes. It was much more alive and sweet than she painted in her memory. And trapped in these daydreams, she gave in to the redhead's charms, once again, when Mildred asked to come inside the house and talk to her. 

With each question from the nurse, about her leaving the hotel or missed calls, Gwendolyn felt a turbulent anguish in her stomach, so she was unable to hold on and screamed a list of everything she lost, every single thing, on the woman's face. Hoping that the dreamy apathy in the redhead's sweet tone would disappear, Gwendolyn offered her tea sarcastically, but the nurse only sounded delighted and grateful, and it boiled her blood. 

Before she even realized it, she had thrown Mildred at the origin of all her misery. 

The lies. 

The blonde understood the self-destructive game that the nurse had played to save her brother, and can see herself doing something similar if Travor was in too much trouble, for all the good he did to her as the best friend she ever had, but Gwendolyn couldn't stand the thought of having to be destroyed along the way with the redhead. 

The words slid down her tongue directly from her soul in an unhappy way, marked by her trembling voice and, perhaps, a part of her mind wished to be comforted, embraced and kissed for the reason of her unhappiness, which now also had its eyes full of tears. But when Mildred's hands moved, closer to her face, and she felt like embers, ready to hurt her again, so she stepped back, feeling another stab in her heart. Thinking about it, she found herself trapped for a silent question. 

_Does it hurt more to stay away or close to her?_

Until Mildred starts a confusing declaration, like all the others that the redhead has given her since they met, and Gwendolyn cannot avoid the weight of the uncertainty of its veracity on her mind. 

Feelings that she didn't even know if were significantly reciprocal had cost her so much. And yet, looking at Mildred Ratched's face, she thought that all the beautiful things in the world could be summed up in a tight red hairstyle and the woman who owned it. 

"Gwendolyn, I love you." 

The words she had been fantasizing about in her mind for the past few months finally took shape in the voice that the blonde had been dreaming of. She didn't expect it to hurt, it shouldn't hurt, but her eyes overflowed with the purest anguish that Gwendolyn could feel as she walked away from the redhead's furtive touch, as if once again it would hurt her skin. 

She forced her voice to sound as unsteady as possible while professing that she didn't believe it. But she didn't know if words were addressed to the redhead in front of her or her own heart. 

Her bitter words seemed to have an effect, because Mildred's face fell instantly. The unhappiness now clear in the redhead's eyes and in her own, which also overflowed with tears, and she was biting her lower lip, trapping it between her teeth as a failed attempt to stop the flow of her tears. 

And then the redhead started again, spilling excuses and impossible wishes on Gwendolyn's face. Gradually Mildred approached, and the blonde barely noticed, stuck in how real all the lovely words were now. The browns firmly stuck in the greens, showing so much veracity and passion, at the same time that a sweet touch was present on her face, as if Gwendolyn was a unique and rare piece of the museum. Beautiful like no other to the point of being admired and delicate to be cared for, as if anything could break her. 

And maybe could, because when Mildred said that Doctor Hanover was dead, Gwendolyn thought she had broken. 

Her insecurities screamed in the middle of an argument within her soul, some voices demanding that she move away from the woman in front of her and others that she embraced her and never let her go, at the exact moment when the redhead said she was not related to the murder. But then Mildred talked about money and that was enough for Gwendolyn to separate herself from the redhead's arms. 

That was what the blonde had in mind when she imagined her last healthy days would be like? Before the cancerous lump that grew inside her left breast turned her into a walking cadaver? Suspicious lies, murders and unusual payments? 

So when Mildred said she wanted to run away with her, her answer was no. But the dreamy look and soft voice that the redhead had when she arrived at her house were there again, and the blonde couldn't bear to even indicate that. 

Because she was dying. It was a painful, eminent, crucial and unshakable truth, and so her instincts spoke louder once again, releasing the information that the blonde intended to keep private to the one person that couldn't be informed of it. 

When sweet and hopeful words trembled from Mildred's lips, Gwendolyn felt she couldn't be more broken. It was logical, clear and simple, she was dying, and listening to daydreaming believers in her recovery, bathed in a perspective close to nullity, were not what she wanted to hear. 

So she begged Mildred to stop, but she didn't. Mildred took a deep breath, looked deep into the green eyes she loved and said they would find a doctor and beat this disease. That they would do this. 

In anyone else's voice, Gwendolyn would have insulted them, saying that no one has the right to implant any vestige of hope in her heart or mind. But the way that the nurse looked at her eyes when she as declaring war on the disease growing on the blonde's body, as if she was never physically able to lie about it, took the breath out of her lungs. And then Gwendolyn found herself unable to do anything except agree with her, with her promises of a future and happiness, with her sweet touches, with bright eyes and her love promises. 

When Mildred was there, so close to her and giving her heart in the blonde's arms, Gwendolyn could not bear the weight of her own love and unconsciously extended her fingers, touching the redhead's lips. 

The first time that Gwendolyn Briggs kissed another woman, she was 17 and very hungry for the unknown. 

The lips of Ruby Saltzman, who was living three rooms away from hers and working hard to become a nurse, were sweet. She tasted like cherry gum and continued to through the years that they exchanged hidden caresses from the world, until responsibility called her to the war and time never brought her back into Gwendolyn's arms. 

She kissed Travor on the day of her wedding to him. It was a necessary act for their relationship to remain intact for their family, but the blonde felt nothing. It seemed wrong to kiss his friend, his protector, the only person who understood her on the lips, and that is why she never did it again. 

She kissed other women after that. Some with unknown names, some with names that she forgot. But none of them was significant enough that she could describe it as anything greater than the momentary desire. 

But Mildred Ratched's lips were pink and tender to the touch, trembling thanks to the physical response of the tears, which now stained her cheeks, and in anticipation of what would happen. So, even before the blonde could focus her eyes on the chocolate-colored orbs that so tormented her dreams, Mildred kissed her. 

Just as Gwendolyn never liked to dream, she also didn't enjoy fairy tales. The idea of a kiss that fixed everything made her suspicious, but something on the lips of that one in front of her, which held her face as if the health of her soul depended on the closeness between them, made all the kisses she ever shared seem wrong. 

All she knew and understood was that this kiss and how soft Mildred's lips were when they crashed into hers. Mildred's kiss had what Gwendolyn imagined the sky would taste like. 

The redhead kissed her as if she were able to surround her soul. And maybe she really did have that power. She was sweet, passionate and made her knees buckle, just like the fairy tales she had abominated in her childhood. 

And if kissing Mildred Ratched would make her feel that way every time, the logic that Gwendolyn dreamed of as a guide would finally incorporate and unite with her impulses, establishing a permanent alliance for the touch that made her even more in love. 


	2. comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The comfort of separating your name from a lie. The comfort of sleeping and waking up with the one you love. The comfort of knowing that, no matter what, you are loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: happy international lesbian visibility day late to you girls!!! i just want to kiss you all on the forehead! Second: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!
> 
> I only noticed when I was writing this chapter that I had not written notes in the previous one, but here they are. I hope everyone is well and safe, and I couldn't be happier with 60kundos + bookmarks and comments.
> 
> Well, I used these 4 weeks to plan out what I want to do in each chapter and luckily I managed to finish it. I don't have a specific posting date, because my first language is not English and I like to make sure that there is no grotesque error in my translation before I post it. By the way, in case you find any, I would really like you to let me know...
> 
> As I know that 4 weeks is a long time, I worked and managed to write a chapter of almost 7k words for you. I intend that my next chapters will have between 4k to 5k words, but you guys are the ones who dictate the rules. If you want even bigger (or smaller) chapters I promise that I will do my best to answer the majority's request.
> 
> So I just ask you all to be patient and keep yourself as excited as I am for this domestic adventure.

Gwendolyn doesn't want Mildred to go. The redhead can see that it in her eyes when she says she needs to get back to the Motel before it gets dark. There is something in the blonde's green eyes that screams for the nurse to never leave her arms again so that the taste of their kiss does not end as just one. But there is also fear, as if expressing her wish out loud would be a trigger for Mildred to walk away again and perhaps never come back. 

And Mildred can't blame her for thinking that, but she is really sick of running away and, trying to prove it, she has an idea. 

It's not winter yet, but the wind crosses the open windows of Gwendolyn's house coldly and, while feeling it, Mildred sits in the blonde's living room chair, removes the low-heeled shoe she wears and then the short white sock that covers her left foot before putting the shoe back on. She does this silently on both feet while feeling Gwendolyn's curious gaze almost burn her skin. With the two white socks in hand, she stands and, with her cheeks flushed, walks into the blonde's direction, who still has a confused expression on her face. 

“Here, keep it. I'll come and pick it up tomorrow, after work. ”, And the smile that Gwendolyn gives her is so beautiful and full of light that the redhead imagines that in the future she could call her a ray of sunshine and that would not be an extravagance. 

It is a silent promise that reflects consistency. She will come back tomorrow. 

And she comes back, but not for the socks. Surprising the blonde one, the nurse now leaves a coat, as a company to the socks. After her coat, Mildred leaves her sunglasses too in the next day. And it almost becomes a routine, but it ends before the fourth day. 

Gwendolyn likes it and she can't deny it. She slept embracing the clothes and even though she knows it looks pathetic and extremely codependent, it is like a physical reminder that what she dreamed so much really happened, that Mildred had become a constant in her life. But, when Mildred's sunglasses rest on the coffee table in the blonde's living room, just before the redhead leaves, and surprising even herself with the courage that has been painted on her heart, Gwendolyn finally verbalizes in a whisper what in her head. 

"I can't wait for everything that you have to be here." 

It wasn't supposed to be that way. Straightforward and without thinking, but when the blonde noticed the words had already escaped from her lips, before it was even processed by her brain, and the skin on her face turns red as her eyes focus on the floor.

Mildred's body tenses up, but when she looks at the visibly embarrassed blonde, she decides to just smile, drinking vigorously from the unusual sight. 

The nurse remembers herself researching old newspapers, just a few months ago, about the city that her brother was being transferred from and finding countless pictures of a blonde woman next to the governor. Short hair, expensive hats, always impeccable clothes, and a serene yet rigid look on her face. At some point, the redhead remembers thinking about the possibility of a moment when the blonde woman was out of her element. Weakened, embarrassed by her own actions, and perhaps even flushed — even in the enigmatic black and white photos — just so she doesn't feel so alone in her misery. But after finally meeting Gwendolyn, she threw that thought into the back of her mind. 

And now that memory was awake, with the sweet sight of flushed cheeks and uncertainty shining adorably in the green eyes. 

Although it is beautiful, mainly because it is so rare to see, Mildred prefers the self-assured look. 

"Do you really want that?", The question slides across her tongue in a sweet, even if nervous, way and when she receives a shy affirmative nod from the woman in front of her, she lean down to brush her lips against Gwendolyn's and whisper against them, "I have a day off in 3 days.” 

"Then I will clean half of my closet tomorrow." 

Before the redhead leaves, Gwendolyn gives the copies of the keys to her house to Mildred. The same ones that Travor left behind when he moved out, and the redhead receives it with a smile on her face. 

That night, while Mildred lies in her bed at the Motel, she imagines what it must be like sharing a bed and sleeping next to someone she loves. 

She shared her bed a few times as a child. With other orphans or even with her brother, especially when nightmares tainted their dreams. The redhead also shared her rooms with other nurses during the war, as the space reserved for them was not considerable. But, even in her adult life, Mildred never shared the space that which she lived, and slept, with someone she loved romantically. 

Her life was summed up by the incessant search for Edmund, but eventually, Mildred was involved in any idea of a night of pleasure. Sometimes to feel alive, or to get herself away from loneliness, sometimes to focus her energy on her own pleasure, but never because she was in love. And they never really slept in her bed, the sleeping vulnerability wasn't been there. 

Now, with her head resting on the pillow, Mildred imagined what it might be like to sleep and wake up next to someone she loved. To blindly touch the end of the sheet and find a warm body as her company, or to feel peaceful puffs of air on her face if the faces were close, but her brain focused mainly on another scenario. 

Still in her teenage years, Mildred remembers reading a banned book in one of the houses she lived in. It was a forbidden romance and too immoral to be bought at a young age, and although she doesn't remember its plot, a scene is painted clear in her mind until this day. The protagonist lying with her head relaxing on the chest of the person that she loves while she falls to sleep. 

She was the one who would, at some point, lay in Gwendolyn's arms? Mildred imagines the skin of the one who monopolizes her thoughts as soft to the touch. Her hands were warm every time her skin touched the redhead's hands, and maybe the rest of her body is like that too. Warm, cozy and soft. 

Mildred feels heat in her heart and smiles at the ceiling with her own thoughts. And instigated by the feeling, an even bolder canvas is painted in Mildred's mind. Something more audacious as her fingers touch her own arms. 

Gwendolyn could lay down in her arms too. 

It would be nice to hug the blonde in her sleep, to have her lying in her arms peacefully.

Mildred's skin is cold, even when she's not cold, but maybe Gwendolyn can find comfort in that. In the same way that Mildred found comfort in the blonde's warm hands every time her face was touched tenderly by Gwen. 

With the dark keychain and its 4 keys — which she knows the functionality of 2 since she has not visited the second floor yet — turning between her fingers, the nurse thinks for the first time about where she will live. In the house that Gwendolyn lived her marriage. 

And the mere thought makes her own saliva bitter. 

She knows nothing about the relationship Gwendolyn had with her husband other than what the blonde shared with her in the room she lived in the same Motel in which she finds herself. 

Mildred remembers that when she saw the blonde's expressionless face, asked her if the reason for her divorce was aggression. The redhead has already seen this happen, in the houses where she lived as a child — when lunch was not ready and the man responsible for her adoption took out his frustration on his wife — and saw in the war — when soldiers enraged by losses discounted their failure in the first most fragile body they could find — but Gwendolyn denied it. The blonde said that her husband was a wonderful man and that she had left him to live a real love, and then Mildred walked away thanks to all the fear she felt with those words. 

Now, she wished to go back to the past and have heard more. 

How long have they been married? Was it years, maybe decades? Was Gwendolyn happy at some point? 

They also probably consummated the relationship, right? It made sense, but the redhead doesn't like the idea of sharing with the blonde woman the same bed they made love to for years, or even just once. 

That was _wrong_. 

In her early teens, Mildred recalls a beautiful cook in one of the houses she lived in. She was sweet, kind and everything she cooked was delicious for the redhead, but one day, without any reason, she was fired. The redhead was afraid to ask why, but listening behind the door she discovered the reason. She was having meetings with a married man. 

She heard from the owner of the house and her guests that the woman had seduced a committed man and stolen the affection that should have been directed to his wife until he ran away from the first woman to live with her. 

Was that what she had become? 

Someone who steals the affection of a married person without even realizing it? That seeps into the mind of a committed person until that person gives up the one with who they share an alliance? 

Before she even notices, in the midst of the discomfort that these thoughts and the icy keychain have instigated, tiredness overtakes her mind and Mildred sleeps softly. 

The next day, the nurse refrains from spoiling her mind with the same thoughts as the night before. But, at the end of her shift, when Mildred appears at the front door of Gwendolyn's house, a doubt is painted in her mind. 

Should she use the keys the blonde gave her? Or ring the bell and wait patiently for Gwendolyn? 

At some point, Mildred hopes to be able to dispel the thoughts and doubts that fill her mind. She thinks too much, and she knows it, but that has never worried her before. Her ideas have always helped her, whether at work or on her travels to find her brother, but when it came to Gwendolyn, Mildred had only questions and no answers with her overthinking. 

She must have stayed 10 minutes in front of the main door, with the key in her hand and without ringing the bell, just outlining the pros and cons of using it in her mind. But her gaze focuses on a tall, pale, thin man who was entering the neighbor's house and that just give her a silent salute before going through the entrance door and there, the nurse inflates herself with the same courage she had a week ago, when she rang that bell, and inserted the key in the lock, turning it until she heard the lock release from the wall. 

She declares her arrival by calling for the blonde one, silently begging to have made the right choice seconds ago, but when her eyes meet Gwendolyn's, who is sitting on the couch and gives her an open smile as she speaks on the phone, Mildred knows she there was no better choice. 

"No Travor, the house is no longer for sale... Yes, I interrupted the negotiations last night, only temporarily..." 

When Gwendolyn's calm voice came, Mildred feels like a child listening to the adults' conversation behind the door, being part of a dialogue that she doesn't belong. 

A dialogue about Travor, Gwendolyn and their home. 

“Do you miss me already?”, The question escapes the blonde's lips in the middle of a laugh, but the sweet sound ends the moment Mildred sits beside her, “I'm just kidding, you know that this would be adorable! I can't promise in Mildred's name, but I'll see you tomorrow.” 

Upon hearing her name, the redhead opens her eyes theatrically, absorbed in a barely concealed confusion, and Gwendolyn does not notice her discomfort because she is busy finishing the conversation. 

"Hello darling.”, The greeting is warm and the sweet nickname makes Mildred's cheeks flush, and in a silent response, she rubs her lips against the blonde's cheek and whispers back. 

"Hi." 

"How was your day?" 

Mildred can see that the questioning has a genuine interest, so she smiles again and responds briefly that everything went relatively well. She knows it is wise and polite to ask the blonde the same, but words run impulsively through her tongue. 

"What can you not _promise in my name_?", The tone of her voice sounds accusing, much less warm than it was seconds ago, and Gwendolyn declines herself in the intention of walking away from the redhead, in shock and frightened by the way the question was asked by Mildred, but when the nurse touches her hand and holds it, she gives up the movement and prefers just to answer the question. 

“The divorce papers. Travor has them ready with his lawyer and would like to come to dinner here tomorrow, as a more welcoming goodbye than signing the papers in a formal office... He just asked if you would like to come, but you don't have to if you don't feel comfortable... It was just a thought, I would ask you calmly later and... ” 

“The divorce papers are ready? But it has just been a week... ”, it seems that the whole storm that was forming in Mildred's soul was banished away, and even when questions still shine confused in her mind she opens a smile. 

The redhead always thought of marriage as something meant to be forever. A document that united the bodies of two people throughout their lifetime, and if she were honest, the concept terrified her. Giving up control of herself, even if only for legal reasons, was scary, but there was the blonde one, changing once again everything that Mildred thought was already pre-established in her mind. 

"Yes, Travor knows some man who works in the field... So everything was done faster.", When Gwendolyn returns a smile that shines brighter than the morning sun, Mildred just wants to be sure of one more thing. 

"Are you happy?" 

"Yes. Are you?" 

She doesn't even have to think to answer, she just gest her face closer to Gwendolyn's and murmurs, before their lips touch in the first real kiss that day. 

"I will be when I find out what we will be serving."

But eventually, Mildred does not participate in the dinner preparations. She woke up late, just because she started making arrangements to move in with the blonde one the night before, and how intense her shift at Lucia State Hospital was, definitely did not help her. 

That shouldn't have been the day Betsy Bucket chose for the first day of training for new nurses, but it was. This should also not be the day when all possible hires would fail in some important way in their tests, but they still failed. And finally, it shouldn't be the day that one of the youngest patients, just a child, would have an emotional breakdown and tremble for almost 50 minutes while crying on the redhead's lap, but it was. 

The path to Gwendolyn's house was done almost robotically in the car. When she stopped to think a little bit, Mildred found herself surprised by how quickly everything related to the blonde one became a kind of routine, and in comparison to all habits lived by Mildred, the only routine that made her happy. And even with her soul bathed in this natural joy, Mildred still felt a throbbing headache and a chill in her belly as she parked her car and found another one right in front of hers. A well-known black Humber Hawk. 

Mildred does not have many memories of the beginning of the day she kissed Gwendolyn for the first time. She was so afraid of losing the blonde once and for all that everything that wasn't related to her in that morning was ignored, but Travor's black Humber Hawk parked in front of Gwendolyn's house could never be ignored. 

For a second, Mildred feels like an intruder again remembering how that happened. On the day in question, the redhead waited patiently while the man left the house he lived with his wife so that Mildred could come in and declare herself for the same woman, entering a house that was not hers without even being invited. 

But today, it was different. 

Today, Travor had to ring the bell to enter the house, since his key was resting in the pocket of the nurse's green coat. 

Today, Travor was asked to sign papers that would make him leave Gwendolyn's romantic life, at the same time that Mildred's greenish suitcases would enter the blonde's house the next morning, even though the bags were already resting in the redhead's trunk thanks to her poorly masked anxiety. 

Today, Mildred was not an unexpected presence. Quite the contrary, the nurse was a mentioned and expected presence, even by Travor. 

The reality was really confusing her. Two thoughts dueling firmly in her soul since last night. Travor inviting her to dinner and the anger that Travor should have towards her, for monopolizing Gwendolyn's romantic affection. 

The moment Mildred opens the door and enters, she barely has time to close it until well known blond curls appear in front of her. Gwendolyn is the personification of light, and Mildred believes that the blonde one would have the power to attract thousands of eyes to her, just for the way that she makes the redhead's heart race when she asks her softly about her day. 

Mildred wants to answer, to say that it was bad and that she is more than exhausted, emotionally and physically, and that all she wants is for Gwendolyn to sit beside her on the couch and read the important news from the newspaper in the sweet way that only she can manage, however, two pairs of eyes, in addition to the green ones, watch her with curiosity, and she feels too exposed to be comfortable. 

The blonde one sees the concern in the nurse's eyes as if her superpower was read Mildred's emotions like a children's book, but she doesn't question it. Gwendolyn just touches her hand and says that everything is ready, that they were just waiting for her. For a second, the nurse expects to see anger or hurt reflected in the green eyes, or perhaps some piece of disappointment because she is late, but there is nothing there. If Mildred had paid more attention, she would have been able to describe what she found as concern and affection, clearly stamped on her green eyes, but she doesn't and it's because Travor's face quickly materialized in front of her. 

“It is nice to finally meet you Mildred Ratched. I heard a lot about you.” 

His voice is soft, sweet and friendly, which goes perfectly with the gray suit he wears. His smile is kind and she wonders what's wrong with him, to justify Gwendolyn given up on her marriage. Or if the problem could be him. 

"Back to you." Even with all the questions bubbling up in her mind, Mildred remembers to answer and share a kind handshake with the man in front of her. 

Gwendolyn mumbles something about taking Mildred's purse upstairs, to make her more comfortable in the dining room, but what the nurse wants to shout is that the discomfort will only increase when the known blond curls disappear in the middle of the stairs. 

Since the past week, this is the first moment Mildred wants to escape, return to the motel room and return to the momentary comfort that solitude will give her. But she doesn't. 

She doesn't do it because she doesn't like to imagine herself alone for a long time. Mildred likes to imagine herself alone with Gwendolyn. And during the time of just a blink, the nurse's cheeks flush before she regains her self-control. 

The redhead excuses herself to wash her hands for dinner, as it is more than clear from the succulent smell of roasted potatoes that the meal is ready, and maybe she will take longer than necessary during this task just to stabilize her breathing. 

_Everything will be fine! Gwendolyn wants you here. She loves you._

These are three phrases that she repeats to herself mentally, as a reminder that she is not an intruder, but it does not help much. For a moment, she imagines Gwendolyn's voice saying the phrases, and she clings to that force to get out of the bathroom and head towards the table. 

Travor is sitting, laughing at something the redhead has not heard. Gwendolyn is up, placing a few platters with some types of pasta and roasted white meat on the table. It looks very good, and Mildred smiles at the thought of watching the blonde one cook next time, but her gaze falls on a third being. He is a tall man, the biggest of all at the table, and he is standing, opening a wine that Mildred never tasted and smiling. 

"Hello Miss Ratched, I'm sorry I didn't see you before, but I was checking to see if all the documents were here before the signature." 

Oh, the lawyer. 

Mildred would like to be able to hold the growing smile on her lips, but a happy outline stains her serious face and she finds herself sitting in the chair next to the man. 

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard your name." 

“Oh... it's Bauer. Andrew Bauer. ” 

The nurse pays no attention to her surroundings, suddenly caught up in a conversation about how quickly the divorce that brought them together that night was ready, but a knowing look full of happiness and hope is exchanged for Gwendolyn and Travor. It is like the first step of the path towards their happiness, watching their partners interact in a peaceful and natural way, even if within four walls protecting and hidden them from the real world. It is a good first step. 

The rest of the dinner passes by as a blur in Gwendolyn's mind. The blonde one is too happy with how her life has changed in such a short time. 

She fell in love. She is about to finalize the agreement related to the only thing that gave her security in the past. She had her feelings reciprocated vividly by someone who wants to live with her. She was fired. 

_And she discovered she had cancer_. 

She did not dare yet to speak with Travor, or her mother, or her sister or any friend that she was about her cancer. After the day she told Mildred, she didn't even mention the subject anymore. It's as if speaking out loud makes that nightmare that grew in her breast too real, too dangerous, and too deadly. 

The blonde one remembers her aunt. Even with only 7 years old she still has vivid in her memory the image of the strong and happy woman who died slowly and painfully. Gwendolyn recalls that no one in the family had enough capability to verbalize anything related to the illness, but the way that the most cheerful and energetic woman in the family was becoming anemic and unhappy silently denounced to the little Gwendolyn that something was wrong. If that wasn't enough, the blonde one remembers, while playing with Aunt Mary's dresses, of finding different bras. 

The lace was the same as her mother's, with neutral colors too, but inside of the fabric there were large sewn cushions, and she remembers asking herself, full of her glorious childlike innocence, what they were for. 

During her teenage years, when understanding leaped like a flower on one of her aunt's death anniversaries, Gwendolyn cried. 

Now, living the same reality, the blonde wonders if she will have the same fate. She knows that medicine has evolved a lot since her youth, but there is still a lot of barbershops. Gwendolyn almost loses her hunger when she remembers seeing Director Hanover inserting a needle over the eyeballs of people right in front of her, so what guarantees her that her breasts will not be pulled out of her chest like her aunt's? 

But if it was necessary, she would still do it. Because she loves to live, because she wants to live and because there was Mildred. 

Mildred, who promised her that everything would be okay. 

The demons inside Gwendolyn's mind scream questions that she can't and doesn't even know how to answer. 

_Would Mildred feel disgusted by the scars? She would dare even look at marks? The redhead didn't touch her while she was whole, why would she touch her with a part of her femininity missing?_

Gwendolyn shakes her head negatively as if the act would make her self-destructive thoughts disappear, but the attitude only makes her a little dizzy. Then, she fixes herself horizontally, takes a deep breath and murmurs excuses before walking away. 

Mildred notices, simply because she knows exactly when Gwendolyn is okay or no, and offers her accompany, but the blonde refuses with a smile and blames the whiskey she drank on an empty stomach before dinner. 

The redhead thinks about insisting, maybe even checking the pressure of the blonde one, looking for the cause of the instability, precisely because she sees in Gwendolyn's face that alcohol is not the reason for dizziness. However, just by looking at the blonde's eyes, she knows. 

Gwendolyn did not tell Travor about her cancer. 

Consequently, and only that, she lets the blonde walk away and forces a smile. 

Looking at the two men eating quietly at the table, Mildred is unable to shake her confused thoughts now. She thinks about Gwendolyn, and if she is well alone in the bathroom, but, she mainly thinks about the papers that purposefully rest next to her and, before even stopping, a question slides on her tongue. 

"How long have you two been married?" 

The redhead knows from Travor's face that he didn't expect the question, but she also sees his dark eyes sparkle, truly happy that his first interaction with Mildred at the dinner table was initiated by her. 

“9 years and 5 months.”, His response is said with pride and he takes a little time to design the next topic until it is at a point where Andrew can participate as well, “I heard that you are a nurse...” 

"Indeed." 

Mildred knows that her response is dry, harsh and with no intention of continuing the conversation, but she barely notices the awkward silence that has taken over the dinner table. All she thinks is that she is about to move into the house where Gwendolyn lived with Travor for almost 10 years. 

The redhead has never lived in the same neighborhood for 10 years. And the woman she loves shared a house during that time, a house that she is about to invade. Her stomach starts to tighten and, giving up on finishing dinner, she voiced another question that teased her mind. 

"It was good?” 

At that moment, Travor's expression shows confusion. He looked disoriented towards the nurse, as if he was looking for the motivation of that question and, without even thinking, he replies: 

“Gwen is the woman of my life. I have never loved, nor will I ever love another woman as I love her.” 

Mildred felt that the floor beneath her feet was gone, her heart started to beat too fast and her hands started to sweat. Was she a woman that unconsciously destroyed families? Just like that same cook years ago? 

At that moment, Gwendolyn returned to the table and, as she sat down, stretched out her right hand towards the redhead. But, even before any question escaped her tongue, Travor's voice rang out again. 

“Do you mind accompanying me upstairs for a moment? Mildred? ”, The man is already standing at the table, instigating two confused looks from Gwendolyn and Andrew, but he doesn't mind, he just wait. 

"To be honest I don't believe I'm feeling well... Maybe I...", the nurse did not want to be impolite, but the sweet voice of the man saying how much he will always love the woman who has her heart now simply left Mildred dizzy. 

"Please? Is important." 

She doesn't know why, but she ends up nodding affirmatively. 

As she walks away from the dinner table, she hears confused whispers from Andrew and Gwendolyn, asking each other if something has happened, but they both have no answers for that and eventually find solace for their thoughtful minds in the wine's sweet taste. 

Travor walks calmly beside Mildred, who feels her legs tremble. At the top of the stairs, he guides the nurse to a door and opens it. It is a whole room in yellowish pastel color and two garden paintings are attached to the wall. The bed is big, probably the biggest that the redhead has ever seen and she sees her bag resting there. 

There is no need for her to verbalize, but Travor does it anyway. 

“This is Gwen's room. She likes delicates colors a lot, mostly yellows... That painting, the one with the largest shades of blue, I bought her on a business trip five years ago...” 

Travor speaks as if it is nothing, but Mildred feels that she is intruding in a place that is too precious, too private, even though she is sure that her bag rests against the bed and some of her clothes probably are in the closet. Her face flushes in shame as she still refuses to enter the room, but the man doesn't care, and subtly points out another door, across the hall. 

The nurse can see, just as he opens the door, that his eyes shine and he smiles. This room also has an indescribably large bed, but the decor is less detailed, more rustic and without memorable details besides a desk, as if it were abandoned. 

"And this was my room... For 9 years and 5 months." 

And it is as if the world has paused. The only thing that continues to sound is Travor's voice, calm and sweet, as he sits on his old bed. 

“Gwen and I were never more than friends. I love her very much, more than I can love any woman, but my heart only offers romantic love to my equals, like Andrew. ” 

"Oh..." 

There, Mildred finally feels that she can move, and she walks towards the bed and sits next to Travor, still organizing her thoughts. 

"So you and her never..." 

"Never." 

It is said without remorse, without thinking, and looking at the dark eyes of the man in front of her, Mildred imagines that he has no capacity to lie. But another question bubbled up in her head, and taking advantage of the fact that they were both alone, she let the words out in a whisper: 

"Why are you telling me this?" 

"Because you are tense around me, nervous as if instead of a divorce I was about to sign a union certificate... I just don't understand why.", Until then Travor kept looking at the wall, but then he takes a deep breath and focus his gaze on the redhead next to him, “Gwen did everything to be able to be with you, she herself told me how happy she was because you were prepared to live with her, minutes before you arrived... Then why you..." 

"I...", even before the question was asked, the word fled Mildred's lips, and with her face reflected in Travor's expectant eyes, the redhead took a deep breath and finally let her feelings be verbalized, "I felt like an intruder... In your home, in your family... Stealing your wife's affection... ” 

"Well... I hope I instilled you some comfort!", With a smile that was impossible not to return, Travor stood up and stretched out his right arm, indicating support for Mildred get up too, "This house is also yours now, even if only through the woman who waits for us downstairs, Mildred. ” 

The nurse smiles too and they go down the stairs together, now much calm than she was a few minutes ago, and before she even realizes, she whispers loud enough for the man beside her to hear. 

"Gwen was right.", When his gaze goes to hers in a confused way, for the lack of information and for the first time the redhead uses the nickname and not the blonde's name in front of him, Mildred simply finishes, "You are a wonderful man, Travor.” 

Getting back to the table was easy, especially when Gwendolyn and Andrew were laughing out loud about some ridiculous government plan by some candidate that Mildred did not record the name. At first, when Mildred and Travor sat at the table with smiles on their faces, the blonde one was even more confused than before, however before she even had time to ask Mildred if she was feeling better, the redhead held her hand. 

Was just a simple touch, but it was one that Gwendolyn knew it meant a lot to Mildred. And, seconds later, Travor took Andrew's hand too. 

Just proving to the blonde that, regardless of what happened outside, those walls kept a safe place for 4 hearts in love. 

The food was already cold, the wine was over and so the reason for the fraternization took shape when two signatures were scrawled on Andrew's papers and, after warm goodbyes, the two men left. As Gwendolyn waved the last goodbye to the distant car, she noticed how dark it was and concern clung to her soul. 

"You shouldn't be going to the Motel right now... It's so late..." 

The voice awakens Mildred from her thoughts, all caught in the words of comfort and encouragement spoken earlier by Travor. A house, a home, a person to care about the redhead, who loved and wanted her close... It was all so good and it sounded surreal to have achieved everything she wanted for a lifetime in a week, so why wait when everything she had was already in the trunk of her car? 

Gwendolyn smiles broadly when Mildred tells her that she will stay, the skin around her eyes gently wrinkles, and the redhead believes that this is the image that people see when they go to heaven. The blonde does not wait for the nurse, who now removed the dishes from the table, to finish that, she just asks the redhead if she can get the bags and, after receiving an affirmative nod, goes to the nurse's car. 

Mildred will stay. 

Gwendolyn feels the purest happiness flowing through her veins, dueling for space amid the blood that makes her heart beat faster. Because Mildred will stay. 

_But how long?_

_Will she stay when Gwendolyn appearance was so fragile that she couldn't find the strength to go down the stairs alone? Will she stay when the blonde one has only a few strands of hair? Will Mildred really stay if the same cruelty that Aunt Mary experienced happens to her?_

The questions cloud her mind as she returns to the living room, with the two small suitcases she found. For a moment, Gwendolyn has the luxury of escaping the thoughts that eat her soul alive while focusing on her belief that Mildred should have more bags, thanks to the number of clothes that the redhead has used since Gwendolyn met her. But she is silent when she notices the frightened look at Mildred's. And there the first conclusion that is present in Gwendolyn's mind is: _She gave up_. 

"Are you alright?" 

"Where... am I going to sleep?", Mildred's voice sounds serious, but the blonde can see in her eyes that there is a lot of hidden concern and her soul. 

But if the only problem is this one, she knows that she can handle it, even when words sound confused when they slide across her tongue. 

"Oh... I thought... Well, it doesn't matter anymore... Do you want the guest room? I have 2, you can choose and I just... ” 

"No... No, I don't want to... I would like to share your room with you... But nothing else, is that okay?" 

The nurse's cheeks are pink, her eyes focus on anything but Gwendolyn's and the blonde one appreciates being fortunate enough to be able to appreciate the sight of a Mildred without strings, raw and true, even if frightened. 

The path they have taken up to that moment has been arduous, but Gwendolyn knows that Mildred's discovery and affection for others like her is recent, which transforms the whole prospect of living together. They need to learn together first, understand each other, and Gwendolyn is patient. 

"Of course it is." 

"I'm sorry and I want other things, but... I didn't plan that today..." 

Gwendolyn waited for months for the woman in front of her, imagining that she would never share her bed with the redhead. But there was Mildred, saying she would like that, but she just wasn't ready for other things, other touches, so the blonde cut off the nurse's speech in a soft voice. 

“Honey, I want you to feel good about who you are, not guilty or nervous. You have all the time in the world... ” 

"It's just today... Today I...", Mildred continues, lost and waiting for a rejection that she clearly sees coming, barely realizing the lovely nickname, but the word sounds again as the voice of Gwendolyn pins her final answer to the redhead's soul. 

“Honey, I promise you! It's all right. Everything will happen at the right time. ” 

And everything goes well, from the moment they finished tidying up the kitchen downstairs to getting ready for their sleep. It is strange at first, to choose who takes shower first, who brushes their teeth first, if they should or shouldn't leave the room while the other woman is brushing their hair. 

But it remains comfortable, especially when the two women lie on the bed, next to each other, and stare at the ceiling. It is strange, different, but still comfortable, and for that reason they enjoy the silence, even without turning off the lamp that paints the room with a yellowish light. 

The day was long, for Mildred — who had her energies partially sucked in by her work and thoughts — and for Gwendolyn. Finalize her conjugal contract and tortuous memories of her aunt's journey through illness that now also terrifies her seemed too much. And even with the comfort of the warm body at her side and the cold hand that lightly caressed hers, her mind continued to work without pauses. 

The silence seemed too heavy and for a second she wished she had a dinner to be the host or bags to be picked up in a car. Mildred breathed peacefully beside her, caressing her hand and with her eyes closed, and even with the sweet vision, the blonde's mind continued to paint scenarios. 

She thought of her bras, her whole life hollow to support her femininity, magically with stitched pillows, in a vague struggle to mask the unfortunate conclusion of her illness. Just like Aunt Mary's. 

Gwendolyn feels her eyes burn, but she refuses to schedule the first night that she will sleep in the same bed as the redhead with tears. So the blonde takes two deep breaths and whispers. 

"Are you going to love me...", her voice sounds low and the tears she would like to hide are back again, "even if the doctor says it is necessary to... to remove...?" 

Only when her free arm makes mention of her breasts, she see that Mildred has stood up and is now sitting on her own feet as she approaches Gwendolyn. 

The nurse has a concerned look on her face, and it is so different from the peaceful one she had seconds ago that Gwendolyn regrets having brought up this subject. 

"I just... I'm sorry... It just popped into my mind at dinner and I... I know you said we would fight this together, but...", the words scramble in her tongue, especially when she feels Mildred's icy fingers caressing and spreading tears on her skin that the blonde didn't even saw it coming. 

"Gwendolyn!", The voice is said in a low, firm voice, and only when the redhead manages to get the frightened woman's gaze in front of her to meet hers, she continues “I tried to distract my love for you for months... It's impossible to stop loving you. Do you hear me? I'm not leaving, Gwendolyn...?" 

There, the blonde one smiles, because she will have to get used to the new signatures, without adding Briggs to the end of her name and she can feel her face heat up as she whispers. 

"Harris... Gwendolyn Harris." 

The silence settles between them, now much cozier than the previous one and it lasts only for a short time. Maybe a few seconds or even a few minutes, but it ends when Mildred laughs. Her red hair jumps out when she tosses her head back, and the blonde bathes in the image before the nurse focuses her gaze on her face again. 

"I like that...", Mildred says as she continues to caress the blonde's face, and in that moment all the fear she feels evaporates before she even hears the words she discovered that are her favorites, "I love you Gwendolyn Harris." 

"And I love you, Mildred Ratched." 

At that moment, when Mildred finally laid her head comfortably on Gwendolyn's shoulder and they turned off the lights, the redhead can understand why the protagonist of that book that marked her teenage years felt so safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it, I can't wait to know what you think.
> 
> I am always hausofval independent of social media and I would love to interact with you.
> 
> Xoxo


	3. To know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To know more about the person you love. To know how to say "I changed my mind" to someone who just wants the best for you. To know how to touch the one you love. And to know that some things need to be done alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sexual nsfw content;

The path taken by the two women until their current life was so difficult that Gwendolyn believed that getting used to each other and enjoying each other's company would be complicated for both. _Complex_. _Difficult_. But it is so simple. 

The first night they sleep together, Mildred awakens feeling soft touches on her back. It feels good, even while her body is still heavy and confused thanks to her sleep. When she opened her eyes, finding herself in the same position that she lay down the night before, in the blonde's arms, the nurse smiles. Gwen is looking at the ceiling of the room, with the yellow light of the morning — which escapes through a crack in the curtain — painting her carefree features, and continues to move her hand robotically on Mildred's skin in a soft touch that makes her fall even more in the blonde's arms. And just like that, the redhead learns that Gwendolyn sleeps only a few hours a night and always wakes up before she does. 

Gwen, on the other hand, discovers that same morning that Mildred is definitively not a cook. The blonde one knows that the nurse needed to stay alive, but it is clear in the way that the redhead moves around the kitchen that this is not her natural territory. And Gwendolyn, a daughter and granddaughter of professional cooks, is more than fine with this and makes it clear while cooking a morning meal for both of them. 

It is natural for both. And they barely notice when they start collecting information. Like the way that Gwendolyn always prefers to sit in the armchair instead of the sofa, or that Mildred decides the colors of the clothes that she will wear in her work next week on Saturday, and even silly thing like the way that the blonde one always sleeps with two-piece cotton pajamas — preferably pants — while Mildred always wears cold fabric nightgowns. 

When the days pass, the conquerings begin to come in double and with stories in common but lived by both in their own way. 

Mildred had lovely red hair as a child, but when she was in her teens something changed. Maybe it was her hormones, or even a physical result instigated by the universe for all the bad experiences she had, but her hair started to darken in the same way that the sweet and lovely child in Mildred lost space for a quiet and frightened girl. She still had the reddish tone in the hair strands — especially when some warm light was reflected — but the brown had come to life in the red hair in a way that no one could ignore and many even believed that it was her true color. The nurse sometimes felt bad, drunk in a stupid narcissism in being different — even if only because of her hair — while she correct strangers. 

Her hair was and still is red. _She is a redhead_. 

When she shares her story with Gwendolyn, while they both watch a hair dye commercial, the blonde one laughs out loud and associates it with a part of her own life. 

Maureen Harris is a strong woman, with a distinguished personality, and who always gets everyone around her to accept what she proposes, and Gwen has always appreciated her mother even more for that. The woman with honey blond hair always brushed her daughters' hair — the oldest and the youngest — every day and told them how beautiful her hair was. Gwendolyn's childish mind has always linked beauty in its purest state with the image of her mother, and as time has passed and her blond hair has turned copper, unhappiness has taken over the little one.

But it all got even worse when an art teacher called her hair _strawberry-blonde_ as an example for the entire classroom. She cried all the way home and sobbed as she explained the reason for her breakdown to her mother. So, Mureen held her daughter's face until Gwendolyn's green eyes met hers and murmured the words that still and will always be stuck in her mind: 

“ _You are blonde!_ Beautiful and blonde! Blonde just like your mommy, do you understand? Just like me, like your sister and like any other!” 

Mildred absorbed the story carefully, appreciating the differences between herself and Gwendolyn. With their story and with how their own personalities drew their reactions. 

Mildred wanted to be different, _unique_ , and Gwendolyn wanted to be ordinary, _like any other_. 

And here they were. Sharing a home, a bed and memories. 

The day passes calmly, with a sweet movie and passionate kisses. It's sweet and domestic, as the couple they both dreamed that they could be, even if quietly. 

Before dinner, Gwendolyn asks Mildred if she would like to do a short trip to the supermarket in the next day. The blonde one knows that Mildred will work during the day and she may be tired when she returns home, but a rational part of her duels with her most emotional one as she sits next to her lover with a small notebook and a pen. 

Gwen needs supplies. 

With her plans to move into her mother's house forgotten and a welcome company in her home, she needs to buy some things. Some items of joint personal hygiene, such as liquid soap and toothpaste — which the blonde one knows will now be used faster — and food. 

And the second point is what makes Gwen's heart beat faster. 

Having been something close to a vegetarian for more than 10 years, Gwendolyn does not miss the flavor of the red meat. But living with Travor and his customs still attached to animal protein, the blonde does not abominate the smell or the sight of the food. However, what inspired her to write "bologna" as the first item on the list, while the nurse laid her head affectionately on her shoulder as tried to spy what she was writing in the paper, is that Gwen wants Mildred to eat whatever she wants, to cook whatever she likes it and to drink whatever she wants. Free of bonds or fears. 

She wants Mildred to feel at home in _their_ home. 

"What else do you like?" 

She knows that Mildred cannot just fall asleep on her shoulder in 2 seconds and she also feels the redhead's breath on her neck. The cold hands move in a confused and nervous way until they touch the blonde's thigh and find calm with that. But not a single word leaves her lips, so Gwendolyn turns her gaze towards the woman she loves. 

It is explicit in the brown eyes a phrase that they both know will not be said aloud, but it still squeezes the blonde's heart. It is a sweet and frightened look that shouts to the blonde that she had already offered her so much — a _home_ and _love_ — and that the redhead does not intend to ask too much. 

"I like anything."

It's childish, but a little smile still paints her lips when the blonde one writes "anything" on the list and it grows up as a laugh when she hears an angry Mildred forcing of a breath through her nose before smiles too. Now, when Gwen focuses her eyes on the redhead's face, she can see the frightened look slowly disappearing from the brown iris, and then she has an idea. Gwendolyn takes the pen again and writes "apple" before addressing the redhead again: 

"Pick a fruit." 

If Gwendolyn almost can hear the gears turning inside Mildred's head, but she still waits patiently. When more time than expected passes without an answer, the blonde one starts to imagine that it was a bad idea, but Mildred's voice sounds like the most unexpected among all the surprises, whispering. 

"A peach."

In 40 minutes, Gwendolyn could write on her list just over 20 items for Mildred, and another 20 of herself. She let the nurse take her time while she was choosing, even preferring when the answer started dropping out of the redhead's tongue automatically and naturally. 

After dinner, when the list has been separated from the notebook and kept in the older woman's wallet, Gwen and Mildred clean the dinner plates. The nurse does the washing, and Gwendolyn was drying them. 

A soft song echoes on the radio that is still on and Mildred can see that the blonde one next to her moves in rhythm with the melody. She wants to swallow the image so she tries to focus from the corner of her eye on the woman who lives freely in her heart, but the water ends up splashing up to her elbows and Gwendolyn's gaze along with a conspiratorial smile — as if the blonde one knew that Mildred was watching her — make the nurse's cheeks flush. 

Consequently, the blonde one walks towards Mildred, with a plate still wet in her hand and, when she stopped beside the redhead, she beats her hips against the nurse's ones gently. She does this two, three, four times, until Mildred understands what she means and also begins to swing her hips to the sound of the radio song. Satisfied with her own attitude, Gwendolyn returns to her place continues to dance softly while both finish washing the dishes. 

It is not what Mildred had in mind when she was thinking about what their first dance would be like. 

All the scenarios that lived in the nurse's mind included a dance for two, with their bodies stuck together and their clothes causing friction with the softest of the movements, even if the redhead did not know who or how the leadership of the dance would occur. 

But this is also a good thing. _Very good_ in fact. 

Mainly because Gwendolyn smiles all the time, and because the blonde's dress flows like a divine drawing as she walks around the kitchen putting things in place. 

Mildred watches the blonde one dance a little more after finishing her part of their task when the last dishes are being put in place, and she almost understands why so many men keep drawings and posters of women in domestic situations like the one in front of her eyes. 

In the war, many men took hidden pinup's calendars with them, even though the purposes for the warriors were very different from what Mildred feels would be hers. If there were any drawings of Gwendolyn's body as she stretched herself upon the tip of her toes to place the glass cups on the highest shelf in the kitchen, she believes that she would spend the rest of her life just looking at it. But Mildred does not need Gwendolyn's skirt to lift up, showing the charming skin that the blonde one hides over her thighs, or that her face has a sweet expression with an innocent look. Quite the opposite in fact. 

She loves the eyebrows furrowed in concentration and, eventually, the victory-like smile that paints Gwen's lips when she finishes her task. It's stunning and for a moment Mildred feels drunk, because she loves this woman in ways she doesn't even understand, but it's too good for her to waste time questioning herself. 

"What are you looking at?" 

Only then did the nurse noticed that she was looking at Gwen unheedingly, and since Gwendolyn had already finished putting everything that needed to be put in place, she was observed Mildred with a curious look. 

"You." 

It is an automatic response in her brain, but she purposely lets the words escape from her lips just to be able to see the redness flush the blonde's cheeks. It is not strong, but it is still apparent, and Mildred smiles proudly when the blonde one looks away from her eyes before joining her hands with the nurse's one and going side by side towards their room. 

When Gwendolyn starts to lose her hair, the clear image of her older sister monopolizes her entire concentration. Being 7 years older than Gwendolyn, Gwyneth has always been an example for her younger sister and when she got her first job the feeling only grew stronger. 

She was just something close to a waitress in the restaurant that their mother worked for. At just 13 years old, Gwyneth arrived at the restaurant before the place was opened to the public and organized the room, replacing the previous towels, putting new napkins, and handing out cutlery, but it didn't sound any less magical to little Gwen. 

As an imposition, Gwyneth had to tie her blonde hair strands in a bun, which was simple for a girl whose mother was already so used to the act thanks to her profession. Gwyneth and Mureen spent a few minutes each morning tying their hair up, each in their own way until no hair strands were loose, and little Gwendolyn watched from a distance in admiration. 

With her long hair, Gwyneth learned fast and when the action started to become robotic for the teenager a challenge was thrust by her mother. 

"If you believe you do it well, teach your sister how to do it in her hair." 

And just like that, Gwendolyn started participating in the mornings. 

It was difficult at first. Her hands were too small and the pins slipped from her short hair, but Gwendolyn repeated the same ritual every day for months with Gwyneth until they started to succeed. Her hair has always been short, just below her shoulder, and with a fringe that from time-to-time limited her vision, but Gwen and her sister managed to twist the hair strands into rounded shapes and fasten them with twisted staples, so that it was not painful even if wrapped in a formal aesthetic. 

Technically, Gwendolyn did not need to have her hair so tightly tied, principally just to frequent school, but combing and organizing her own hair locks in the same way as her mother and sister's and with both of them by her side, made the little girl feel important. And that was a feeling that warmed her heart, regardless of how much time passed. 

Years later, after Gwyneth discovered that her destiny was to be a hair-dresser, Gwendolyn discovered that her dream-career was in the journalistic arena. A few years writing reports for newspapers and she got a good offer to be a politician's secretary, which caused the first of her numerous changes. However, muscle memory has always been a constant, so she lived her life twisting the same hairstyle — or something very close to it — for all those years. 

Another constant in her life was that, at the end of each day, Gwendolyn released all the pins in her hair, enjoying the ticklings that the movement made on the back of her neck and her cheeks. Keeping the blonde locks in place never hurt, but it was significantly unpleasant, so the blonde one was extremely shocked when, day after day, Mildred continued to hold a few red locks securely in place, releasing them for only a few minutes just to fix the hair strands and secure them again, even when she was ready to sleep. 

Gwendolyn waited until the nurse was lying beside her, with only the light from the lamp painting her face, to ask her why. A part of her hoped that in the middle of the night, the nurse would be more likely to tell about something so personal, even if irrelevant to their relationship. But she barely knew that she didn't need anything to get what she wanted from the redhead. 

The blonde one could ask all the stars in the sky, and Mildred would give her one by one. 

It's so different for the nurse. Having someone who worries about her and cares enough to be interested in her most foolish characteristic is something she has never experienced and confusion shines in her eyes. But her heart beats faster as she listens patiently about how happy the woman beside her was when she had her hair brushed by her sister during her childhood, and then she understands. 

Because she wants the same. 

She wants to know everything about Gwendolyn Harris, the woman who kisses her whenever she gets the chance and who gets flushed cheeks when Mildred asks her to read the news from the daily newspaper aloud. 

So she touches Gwendolyn's right hand, which rests against the bed before she starts talking about her years as a war nurse. 

She doesn't tell about everything, mainly because this is a good time. 

Gwen's eyes vibrate with pure curiosity as a sweet smile is reflected at Mildred, a smile that the redhead does not intend to perplex with the desperate reactions she had to take when she couldn't stand watching men suffering. 

Consequently, she does not tell everything. 

But she talks about Ms. Bethany Coe. The woman with a severe personality, albeit with masked kindness. Every day she wore a bun similar to what Mildred wears, but taller and individual, and it was with her that the redhead learned to do the one that she still uses. 

All nurses had to look flawless. Even with all the chaos and fear that the war reflected, her clothes always had to be perfect and her hair tied up. After all, in Bethany Coe's words, when we keep our hair up, we inspire respect and sobriety, and when we let it loose it is freedom and relaxation. At first, the redhead tried to hold her hair like the older woman's — who also served as a notable example and inspiration for all the other young nurses **—** but part of her hair wouldn't accept. It was frustrating, mainly because the loose hair strands were the ones that were close to her temple, but Mildred found a way to keep them in place. 

Every morning, the redhead pinned a bun with most of her hair using a hair-roller, and with the part that was always loose she made curlers with her fingers and used some clips she had to hold them in place — 3 at the back and 2 at the front of her head. 

The first ones were not good, and Gwendolyn laughed graciously when she listens to that, which painted Mildred's cheeks bright pink, but eventually, the nurse said that her mechanism did most of the work. It was classic — in a way that the nurse could never describe — and instigate power — even if it was something she never had. 

But eventually, a new problem appeared. Time. 

They were in the middle of a war, dealing with bodies and injuries at every single moment, so a nurse could not afford to waste precious minutes pinning her hair up in an exquisite way. Consequently, Mildred started to fasten the 2 front rollers every night, before going to sleep. It was difficult at first, not to hold it tight enough to cause a headache the next day while training her sleeping body not to move so nothing was messed up the next day, but it worked. 

When she was forced out of the army, the need was no longer there, but body memory — just as for Gwendolyn — became a constant. 

"You know you don't need to do this anymore, right? Just if you feel like it, don't you?", The blonde's question sounds calm and affectionate, like exactly every single word that is directed to Mildred. 

"I know", the redhead only notices how tired she is when a yawn escapes between her lips, "But I like to keep it like this..." 

"It's all right. But I'm still going to spend a day with you with your hair down, aren't I? ” 

Mildred smiles and stretches her arm until she can touch Gwendolyn's blond hair before answering her with another question. 

"Is that a mutual promise?", It is beautiful to see how quickly the blonde's cheeks turn pink and then return to the usual paleness, almost subtle enough for the nurse not to notice. 

But she notices and smiles even more brilliantly before moving away and lying down on her pillow. 

"It could be.", Is an embarrassed murmur that Gwen gives her while she directs the weight of her right arm to turn off the lamp that lightens their room. 

"I like that.", Is what Mildred says in a laughing voice before the silence begins to build between the four walls o their room, but she still has something to say and that is why she calls the woman who is about to fall asleep next to her, “Gwen?” 

"Yes, darling?" 

"Good night." 

"Good night Mildred.", The words are said by Gwendolyn before she places a sweet quick kiss on the redhead's lips. 

The next morning, when Mildred has already gone to work in the hospital, Gwendolyn walks around the house without any clear direction. The blonde one knows that there is something to be done and she is cowardly delaying it. 

Looking at her phone now seems like a torment. 

She knows she needs to do it. But she doesn't know how to do it and doesn't know if she has the strength to do it. 

When she was still living with her mother, Gwendolyn was always in harmony with Mureen's temper. And it hurts to know that she needs to tell her mom that her plans have changed and that she won't be coming home anymore. 

After her father's death, loneliness took over her mother's soul, and the blonde one knows that her return home — even if for no explicit reason — lit a flame of hope in her heart. And as if that were not enough, Gwendolyn also knows what most scares her. 

She did not tell her that she is ill. 

_And how could she?_

Gwen knows what this did to her mother's mind while Aunt Mary suffered and cannot imagine instigating any memory like that. 

_Then again, how could she?_

The blonde one knows that at the moment that her mother answers the phone, she will ask why Gwen hasn't called yet to tell her when she would arrive, whether she would go by train, by car or dare to catch a plane. And Gwendolyn also knows that when she says she is not going, she will have to give a justification. 

_I'm not going because I fell in love. Yeah, I definitely gave up on my marriage to Travor — the son-in-law of your dreams — and I'm living with a woman now, Mildred is her name and I love her more than I can put into words. Mom, don't worry, she is a nurse and she promised to stay with me throughout my illness. Oh did I not comment? I found out I have breast cancer. Yes, yes, the same one that sucked out all of Aunt Mary's vitality before killing her._

She can not. But she still tries. Type the number that has been painted in her mind since her childhood 8 times, but gives up each one. 

Because she can't. 

In a desperate moment, Gwendolyn grabs her wallet and looks at the list of products she made yesterday with Mildred. Maybe she can walk around the aisles looking for groceries and forget about the phone that almost smiles devilishly at her. 

But she promised the redhead that they would do it together, and she forces of a breath through her nose thinking about it. 

She's making too many promises. And she doesn't break her promises. She cannot break its promises. 

This is not who she is. 

_But she can lie._

When the idea is painted lived in her mind, the blonde one runs to her personal office. There isn't much there, because a significant part of her work continued in the governor's office, and Gwendolyn honestly can't imagine going there to get the documents related to his mandate, since none of that will do her any good. But among the things that rest on the isolated wooden table, she picks up two pens and an old notebook before returning to the kitchen. 

Maybe it would be better to do the job at the office, but there is a jar of orange juice in the fridge and Gwen really thinks that this can help her. So after filling a glass, the blonde sits at the dinner table and starts a completely different list from the one she plans to bring to the market. 

_What does my mom know?_

A smile blurs Gwendolyn's lips as she writes down everything she remembers telling Mureen. It was not much, just that Travor and her were not in a good romantic moment and that, after losing her job, she would like to spend time with her mother. 

And so, Gwen begins creating a new narrative. Now, she would have divorced and found a new job. 

It is not a complete lie, which relieves her guilt and gives her the strength to imagine herself saying it out loud. But a voice in her mind says that her mother would want to hear details, especially about the divorce, however, what concerns Gwen is the part that is a lie. 

_Who am I working for? What do I do? How did I find this job so fast?_

Gwen feels it in her bones when she is writing that it flows through her fingers. So many years working for more than ten politicians have created a backbone for her, and she uses it masterfully when another idea is painted by her mind. 

_A job in another city._

If Gwendolyn said that she is still living in the same city, she would not be surprised if her mother visited her to see how she was doing, and the blonde feels her stomach churn just by imagining her mom entering the front door and looking at her sick face. 

So the idea was perfect. 

_She was working in a new city with a new group of politicians, a promising group, but one that needed a lot of work. It makes sense, right?_

Perhaps her sister would call her — probably at the order of their mother — demanding by some phone number and address, so she notes at the bottom of the notebook that her whole family can continue sending letters to Travor's house and that he will deliver them to her until she gets a solid place. 

It was good. _Possible._ But even when she reads her story that she wrote four times without finding a single mistake, Gwendolyn's hands are still sweating cold. 

She eats lunch listening to the sound of calm music on the radio, even though her heart may not be more turbulent, and the blonde one tells herself what she will say on the phone — the same way that did with the speeches she memorized with all the politicians she worked for all these years — but everything seems wrong when Gwen imagines her mother's voice in her mind, just wanting her to be a good and honest woman and asking if she is okay. 

But today, she needs to lie. 

Like an angel sent from heaven, the postman knocks on her door, making the blonde's mind works. 

The lie would be easier to be written than spoken and, looking at the papers in front of her, the blonde one sees that this was already done. 

Gwendolyn's body is quick to go to the door and receive 5 envelopes — 2 for her and 3 for Travor — and even faster to return to the table, but from that moment on, the blonde completely loses track of time. 

Later, with 9 consolidated drafts and only 1 definitive letter, Gwendolyn finally notices the passage of time and begins to prepare dinner. It's simple, just pasta with a clear and spicy sauce, but her head can't think of anything else. 

When the sound of Mildred's car sounds, parking in their garage, the blonde grabs the letter and goes to the front door. She almost laughs at herself, acting like a desperate and anxious dog waiting for her owner, but when the redhead enters the house, Gwendolyn just has the strength to close the door again before kissing the lips that she hadn't even noticed how much she missed.

“Does it sound convincing?”, She knows she should ask about the nurse's day, but her body goes on autopilot while her arm extends the newly completed letter. 

Mildred's eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, but she still smiles as she picks up the paper and looks over the writing. Her smile fades and her eyebrows relax as the nurse begins to understand the words, and then she answers the question sincerely. 

"Yes... It sounds convincing." 

"Really?" Gwendolyn believes in Mildred, now more than ever, but she still wants to hear it again. 

Just to make sure it's not her own mind tricking her. 

“Yes, Gwen. But... ”, a pause is made by the redhead, who bites her lip in search of the right word to ask her question, “Why are you lying?” 

"She won't see me sick... No way." 

"Oh Gwen..." 

"She can't, Mildred... It will be too much to have another one in the family.", Her voice is quiet now, broken, and her eyes are close, frightened by what she can find in Mildred's brown ones. 

Fear. 

Disgusted. 

Distancing from understanding that there was a rotten gene in her body. 

An inherited gene that created this whole nightmare. 

But the redhead's hands hold her face carefully, not caring if the paper in her hand will be crumpled or asking what Gwen means by that. Mildred does not question her about her family or what she is so afraid of. Mildred just holds her face and tilts her until Gwendolyn feels soft warm breaths against her nose. 

"It's alright. She won't, okay?” Is all the redhead says, and she waits until Gwen opens her eyes again to continue, “Do you want me to go to the mailbox with you? ” 

"That would be good! We can go to the market too, but dinner is ready if you are hungry.” 

And it's done. They eat quickly, but still enjoying the food and Mildred is the one who puts the letter that Gwendolyn wrote in the mailbox because the blonde still trembles slightly. 

But in the market, things flow nicely and softly. 

Gwendolyn watches as Mildred chooses all the fruits they will take home, directing all their attention to reject any fruit that is not perfect, and the blonde one thinks they can have so much fun traveling to the farmers market to buy fruits who are really fresh. 

She loves the redhead so much and it only grows every second and at every thought, and having this living in her chest while she watches Mildred choose between some pasta brands in the most detailed way she has ever seen, calms her nerves. 

The softness hangs in the air in the same way throughout the purchase and continues until they return home and save the food. Gwendolyn has always been very proactive, being the first one to clean and keep everything that is spread out on the dinner table after each marketing, but today the blonde one finds herself frozen while watching Mildred open and close kitchen cabinet doors that she knows very well. 

Gwen is calmer now. It's good to know that even in the wrong ways, she did the best she could to protect her mother. And it's good to appreciate the current view. 

It's natural. Gwendolyn knows that the nurse barely thinks while she is moving, and it is so good to know that the redhead feels safe living with her.

Her brown eyes shine with genuine joy as she washes peaches in the kitchen sink, and tastes a single one with her eyes open. However, when the sweet taste touches her tongue she closes her eyes enjoying the taste, and the redhead seems nothing less than the definition of adorable for Gwendolyn. 

The blonde always found crazy what passion does to her mind. Always making everything wrong and chaotic around her but when Mildred — wrapped in her purple satin nightgown — sits on her lap and kisses her tenderly on the bed they share, Gwendolyn can only think that the passion that floods her heart does everything around her sounds right. 

Gwendolyn is sitting in the bed with her back on her pillow, grateful to have some support for her legs when she feels the redhead's arms playing uncertainly with hers until Mildred's arms find a safe place at her waist. It still sweet, even when her legs start to shake, but when the redhead rolls her hips twice in Gwen's lap and sighs, she decides to stop her. 

"Darling... How was your day?", The question is asked amidst wheezing breaths, but Mildred continues to kiss her as if she hasn't heard the blonde's voice, "Mil-dred... If you continue... I... I will embarrass myself...” 

She can almost see the redhead's mind working when her eyebrows wrinkle, but the words make themselves clear in her thoughts quickly when she understands what Gwendolyn's words mean. 

"Oh... I see...", Mildred says softly, but she remains in Gwen's lap even with her eyes fixed on her hands, which now rest nervously between them two. 

“Darling?”, It sounds like the kindest of all the incentives when the affectionate name slides down the blonde's lips. 

Mildred knows that she needs to speak out loud, ask what has afflicted her chest during her journey home. And it is when Gwen's warm hands touch her face that words run off her tongue. 

"We could do it, couldn't we?" 

She hopes it doesn't sound childish, but she thought so hard about this question and tried so hard so it didn't sound vulgar that the nurse barely had time to ask herself if it sounded clear. 

"Yes, we could.", As always, Gwendolyn understands exactly what Mildred means, but the blonde one still pushes a little further to understand what the redhead really means, "Do you want to do it?" 

Mildred looks in the green eyes, looking for that wicked hunger she saw on the faces of the men who touched her in her adult life. That malicious look that is almost wicked that the nurse watched creates life in everyone who received or made an invitation to touch her body. But Mildred sees nothing but love and care, wrapped in an aura of something so sweet and genuine that she can hardly breathe to respond. 

"Maybe." 

Gwendolyn's smile is genuine as she blindly grabs both redhead's hands and kisses them with her eyes still fixed on Mildred's face. 

"When you are sure, we will do it." 

"But...", Mildred doesn't know why, but she wants to refute the woman in front of her, but Gwendolyn is faster and interrupts her before her sentence was even finished. 

"I already told you, we have time." 

Mildred just nods, not trusting her own voice and not knowing what words she should say. 

_Thank you? I'm so sorry?_ The redhead is not sure, and even when Gwendolyn is already sleeping beside her, she persists awake and confused. 

The nurse does not know what it will be like to have her body touched by a woman. Having her body touched by Gwendolyn. 

But she has an idea. 

The memory is more than vivid in her mind from what she saw when she caught the two women she helped in the hospital in a private moment, trapped in an aura full of so much desire that they hardly noticed when Mildred opened the door. 

One with her face between the other's legs. 

And she had denounced the act as _a lesbian fornication_ for Doctor Handover — even though today she regrets the drastic attitude. 

_This is how it happened with two women? Was this how it happened every time?_

Certainly not, after all she only had that particular experience once and it was not gratifying for her to indicate that she needed another one. Teeth bit her roughly and a shabby beard scratched her thighs. 

_But Gwendolyn was sweet... sweet and soft in each of her touches, so maybe..._

Mildred shakes her head trying to chase away the conclusion that shines neon in her mind. She is disgusted by imagining such inappropriate scenarios while Gwenodolyn only presented her with kindness and understanding. 

And with the feeling of guilt, she falls asleep, not noticing that her arm follows blindly to the blonde's waist near her. 

The question waves like a burden on the nurse's back for the next two days, because she understands what she wants, but is not sure if she knows how to verbalize it. The redhead is not _an innocent_ to the sex activities, even though she always prefers notes than asking verbally for the touch of another person. But living with Gwen and sharing a life with her, the idea of writing to her about it sounds absurd and pathetic. 

So, she begins a journey of touch. Always simple, although she believes that they are obvious, like when she touches her blond hair while they are both lying on the sofa and, not so subtly, slides her contact onto the woman's neck and collarbone. She is not brave enough to continue to go further down — even if a part of herself is curiously tempted to do so — but she gradually builds up courage in her soul.

However, on the night in question, Mildred is thinking about what led her to share a bed with the woman she loves and currently desires so feverishly and therefore, wrapped in a wave of the same courage that she had when she rang the bell of that same house asking for Gwendolyn's love weeks ago, she leans toward the affection that she knows will gladly be delivered to her. 

"It's a yes, for sure. I promise.", And even before an answer escapes the blonde's tongue, the nurse advances until her lips collide in a kiss that the redhead knows that Gwen will not move away from. 

And the nurse really just needed to do that because, as she felt Mildred's icy fingers tangling in her hair, Gwendolyn smiles in the middle of the kiss before kissing back. 

They continue to touch the exposed skin and over the clothes for a while, kissing what they find in front of them with such softness that Mildred imagines she is floating. What shows that she is still attached to Earth are the blonde's touches on her skin, and when Gwen touches the hem of her nightgown with the clear intention of removing it, Mildred walks away. 

But, contrary to what Gwen imagined, there is no fear in the brown eyes. She thinks about starting the same speech that lives in her mind since the day they first shared the same bed. _Because it doesn't have to be now._ But Mildred is smiling, and even without knowing why Gwendolyn returns the gesture to her before raising an eyebrow in a silent request for an explanation. 

"Can I... take yours first?", The redhead's voice is quiet, very different from the penetrating and unapologetic way of her last phase sound. 

This was not what Gwendolyn had in mind, but when Mildred's thin fingers snaked nervously on the buttons of her pajama top — just waiting for her affirmative answer — she can't imagine what it would be like to say no. So, when she takes her hands away from Mildred's body with a smile on her face and murmurs that _it's okay_ , the redhead starts her new journey. 

Mildred knows what the female body looks like. 

She has one and she has looked at others in her job. 

But still, the redhead is mesmerized and can't look away from her fingers. With the first button, Mildred sees the start of a freckled cleavage. Unbuttoning the second button, it was revealed below the fluffy blue fabric. The third button revealed the end of the blonde's breasts. The fourth, the upper part of the stomach. And when the fifth and sixth parted, they allowed Mildred to get rid of the clothes, and Gwendolyn's exposed body brings a smile to her lips. 

She is beautiful. 

"You can touch me... If you want." 

Gwen's voice sounds, but the encouragement is unnecessary because even before the sentence is finished, the blonde one feels cold hands caressing her skin. And Mildred was right, Gwendolyn's skin is still warm, no matter where she touches her. 

When the redhead sees the shooting scar, at first she doesn't want to touch it. The last thing she wants is for her touch to burn painfully on the woman that she loves, but it is Gwendolyn who takes her fingers and slides them around the scar. Being on Gwen's lap makes it a difficult position to observe and touch the fair skin in front of her, but Mildred doesn't care. 

She finds herself wanting more, so she bends her back until she can kiss the skin that was hurt, by the bullet and the surgery that removed it. When her lips touch the scar, she hears a sweet sigh and feels a soft caress on her scalp, and that is enough to encourage the nurse to do more. 

It is unlike anything she has ever done, after all Mildred is used to barely touching her partners. Just doing whatever it takes for some kind of relief was enough. But Gwendolyn is unlike anything the redhead has ever had. And it's a different kind of good that is so pleasant that she can't imagine anything better than kissing every part she can touch of the blonde one. 

But after a few minutes, when the older woman's breathing is choppy, Mildred feels gentle, firmer hands pulling her away from the skin that she was leaving wet kisses on. 

_Was something wrong? Did she do something wrong? Isn't that how it should be?_

But Gwendolyn was smiling, her eyes shining so beautifully, and when her hands slid towards the end of Mildred's nightgown as she happily murmured that now it was her turn, any tension that was on Mildred's face evaporated. 

The naked bodies finally touch when the nightgown is abandoned beside the bed along with Gwendolyn's blue top, and that is the moment when Mildred knows she has never felt this way before. And when the blonde one maneuvers her, removing the nurse from her lap so that she can lie down comfortably in the middle of the sheets, Mildred begins to think that she can burn in real flames soon by simply feeling too much love. 

Gwendolyn places her legs so that only one is between Mildred's, just that her body does not weigh on top of the younger woman, but still close enough to exhale and receive warmth from her. When Mildred doesn't question her movements and just touches the skin on the blonde's belly while biting her lip, Gwendolyn magically becomes too needy. 

She wants everything. 

The blonde wants to show Mildred how she loves her with each touch. Not because she needs to do it to make it a truth, but just to Mildred be always sure that she is loved. Because if Gwen had to say just one thing that she saw from the very beginning reflected in the redhead's face, it was how Mildred didn't expect to be. 

And she also wants to see her smile so much, an irrefutable aesthetic proof of her happiness, even if it is at that moment, which is why Gwendolyn slides her fingertips over the redhead's belly rhythmically. 

Mildred's body twitches in soft laughter as her cheeks are painted pink, and the redhead sees the exact moment when Gwen's face glows like she doesn't imagine a human being can. 

The green eyes focus on the nurse's face and Mildred almost forgets to breathe. 

_She looks like the sun._

Then _the sun_ kissed her again. And again. 

Mildred feels herself drowning in Gwendolyn's love. Each touch is so pure and so beautiful, full of so much affection and devotion that the redhead feels a moan rise in her throat and barely cares to cover it. 

Perhaps she should, as she did with the other lovers she had. But when Gwendolyn smiles against her skin, she barely remembers how to do it. 

But even amid that sweet moment, Mildred has an idea. And so she separates her lips from the blonde ones in a silent protest for air and space and breaks her heart when Gwendolyn walks away like a frightened deer caught by headlights on a runway. 

"It's everything alright? Are you... ”, Mildred needs to stretch to touch the woman in front of her with a touch of lips, but she still does it, only as a silent act that says there is nothing wrong. 

She doesn't want to smile when a confused look shines on Gwendolyn's face, but she still does. But quickly her smile becomes just a slight lift of her lips when her arms start to support her seated. And then Mildred touches the front of her own hair and hair starts looking for the hairpins that hold it until she pulls it out one by one, Gwendolyn knows exactly what she is doing. 

She remembers using 5, and each time her left arm reaches out to support the small dark objects on the table beside the bed, her heart jumps wildly because she feels the blonde's eyes burning her skin. 

When the red hair is loose, the nurse runs her fingers between it with the clear intention of making it presentable, but Gwendolyn barely waits for her to finish to kiss her again. 

It's a different kiss. Needier than the previous ones and the blonde one touches her hair frantically before walking away and starting to distribute wet kisses on her jaw. 

And Mildred moans again. But also in a different way. Now it is stuffy, prolonged, and desirous. 

And Gwendolyn understands it. 

Because Mildred will never need to beg for anything when Gwendolyn is there for her. 

The blonde one loves the nurse's body, carefully and without hurry. With no rush at all. Because _they have time_. 

_Time._ Even Gwendolyn doesn't know why she keeps saying that, that they have all the time in the world. Or maybe the blonde one knows, because years ago, while she was still a young woman in college, a hippie boy told her that everything that is said out loud is heard by the universe. 

Perhaps, if she talks to Mildred about how abundant and endless the time they have together is, the universe will make her wish a reality. 

Perhaps, if she acts as if time is not an issue — as if there is no time-bomb growing and every second closer to exploding inside her — the universe will make their time infinite. 

And so, when she discards the last piece of clothing that Mildred has on her body, Gwendolyn loves her with affection and calm. 

She enjoys for several seconds the sinful and slippery sensation of Mildred's arousal in her fingers until she penetrates her, and the redhead's face automatically contorts as her lips form an O. 

Mildred mutters unconsciously as she hears the slippery and indecent sound of the blonde woman's fingers moving in and out of her. 

They are pieces of words, as if everything around her was too much and she couldn't find the strength to think cordially about the sentence she wants to say. But Gwendolyn is patient and watches her face covered with redness as heavy breaths escape her lips. 

Because that night, they have time. 

But it is not necessary so much, because even in the debauchery of the blonde's movements inside her, Mildred wets her lips with her tongue and murmurs a logical request. 

"Gwen... Kiss me..." 

Mildred doesn't like to be kissed, or at least that's what she imagined before kissing Gwendolyn for the first time. When their lips touched that afternoon full of promises, the redhead was sure that she could not want anything more. 

And when Gwen kisses her it doesn't take long for the redhead's body to explode in ecstasy when she falls full on her own pleasure. The nurse's body floats while she still spasms, and there is no viable possibility that she will stop smiling, so Mildred simply relaxes with her eyes closed and enjoys it. 

Still gazing at the pitch, she feels Gwendolyn's head laying down on her shoulder and one of her arms circling her waist before warm fingers draw disordered patterns on her belly, and only when one leg is entangled between hers, Mildred notices that Gwendolyn is still wearing pants. 

The redhead stretches her hand to the waistband of Gwen's pants and slips two fingers between the fabric and the skin, intending to remove it, but the blonde shivers and moves away. 

Again, confusion paints its features. _Touches should be shared, right? Pleasure should be shared, right?_ But a yawn escapes itself from Mildred's lips before she starts to think about how to question this for the woman in her arms. 

She is afraid of feeling silly, that her inexperience with the same sex is a problem, but it all disappears when a kiss is placed on her collarbone. 

"You are sleepy, darling...", Gwen murmurs against the redhead's skin before grabbing her hand and pressing between hers, "And we have time, remember?" 

Mildred wants to argue, to say that it doesn't matter. 

It doesn't matter because she wants it. 

She is not sure if she knows how to do it, but she wants to. 

She felt at her fingertips Gwendolyn's warm skin and nothing seems more important to the redhead's survival than heating her own skin in contact with the blonde's one while she gives her pleasure. But another yawn escapes her lips and when another kiss from Gwen is left, this time on her throat, she relaxes again. 

"And I'm cold... Arent you?", Gwendolyn's voice sounds muffled and Mildred seems to understand a lot. 

As in a scientific experiment, the redhead spreads her palm wide and caresses the belly of the woman who rests gently. It's immediate. All the skin that was touched shivers in the same instant and Gwen's face is further buried in the curve of her neck as she murmurs a soft _no_ against the red hair, but this time she does not move away. 

"No, I don't think I'm...", the phrase is said between smiles, but even so she feels Gwendolyn's hand searching blindly for a sheet, intending to cover both. 

While the blonde one does this, Mildred uses this moment to rub her palm on the bed below her, trying to warm the skin before hugging the redhead again, but Gwendolyn stops her. 

"No, darling. Stop.” 

"But you're cold.", Mildred just continues to rub the skin against the fabric below them, as if she hadn't heard the blonde's words. 

Everything in her brain screams that her highest priority now is to heat her skin with more frenetic friction so that it brings heat faster. 

But Gwendolyn guides the redhead's hand to her own belly, the exact way that the nurse did before. 

"But it's alright." that's what she says before arranging the sheets above them and when something that seems to be very important crosses her head, the blonde looks up until she is inches away from the redhead and whispers, “Darling, do you want to drink some water?" 

The orange of the lamp's light reflects on Gwendolyn's eyes and hair, painting her smiling face even more beautiful than before — even more beautiful than the redhead believes the sun could be — and if Mildred had any artistic ability, that would be the painting that she would do anything to eternalize as a gift to the world. Or maybe to keep it selfishly to herself.

Seeing that Gwen's question had gone unanswered, the nurse thought about it and shook her head negatively, but she doesn't let the blonde lie down again before whispering: 

"Gwen?" 

"Yes, darling?" 

"I love you. So much." 

Mildred has no idea why she can't keep the words inside her. She was never open enough to make such allegations, much less so often, and a part of herself believes that she never loved someone as she loves Gwen. Sometimes, the redhead thinks that this love has turned her body into a teapot filled with constantly boiling water, and every second she spills an _I love you_ without any control from the moment she managed to say it for the first time. 

"And I love you. So much." 

The words are said softly by Gwendolyn, who kisses her before lying on her shoulder again, and Mildred falls asleep while she touches the body attached to her and imagines the happiest of all lives with these being the only words she hears until the end of her days.

But the next morning, the blonde whispers other words to encourage the redhead to wake up. Gwen knows that be on time is very important to Mildred, and this is what gives her the strength to keep trying to wake the sleeping nurse. 

"Darling, wake up... You'll be late." 

"You already dressed up...", Mildred groans softly when her gaze lands on the blonde one, who wears high-waisted pants and a blazer over a light blouse, both in gray tones of blue, "Where are you..." 

The question dies on her lips when her brain works and gives her the answer to it. It is a hospital day for Gwendolyn, or rather, it is the day that she will discover the result that will paint what will be done next to cure Gwendolyn. 

Gwen knows that the nurse still doesn't like the idea of not being there. 

She has to work because the new nurses are struggling to get used to the routine and the old nurses are doing their job and Doctor Hanover's. Mildred wants, but she can't go. 

They almost started an argument about it when Gwendolyn told Mildred. But there is a priority, which is the blonde one's health, and that's why everything is fine. 

And so, Mildred is not going to bring it up again. 

"I slept too much?" 

"Almost... But I'm waking you up in time to get ready calmly." 

"I think I was tired...", the nurse's cheeks start to redden when she mentions the night before, which reflects even more affection in the green eyes in front of her. 

"I hope it was a good kind of tired..." 

"Was. Much more than good. ” 

And then Gwendolyn smiles, and Mildred feels that she is still dreaming. The blonde's fingers caress the completely loose red hair, and Mildred supports her face in the welcome touch silently forbidding herself to close her eyes so she won't lose any second of the sight in front of her. 

"Exactly as it should be." 

Mildred abstains from responding with words and just smiles before getting up and walking to the bathroom to take a shower while Gwendolyn goes downstairs to start cooking. 

And the silence continues as they eat breakfast together minutes later, but now there is tension in the air. Heavy and palpable, which scoffs at the fear of the two women. But Gwendolyn refuses to accept that, and before leaving on her way to the hospital she kisses the redhead's coffee-stained lips in a reminder that everything will be okay. 

Or at least she hopes so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this huge chapter.  
> Your comments are my biggest source of inspiration. Really, thank you!
> 
> xoxo,  
> Val


	4. Get ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready to see the new “you” that will be reflected in the mirror. Get ready to show your weaknesses to the one you love. Get ready to turn the world upside down, if necessary, until you find what will save the one you love. Get ready for the potential of a new beginning, and consequently get ready for that new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not from Mexico, in reality, I'm from Brazil. I am also not a nurse or a doctor or anything like that, quite the contrary since I am in law school... but I tried my best to make this chapter and the next ones real with all my research, but there may still be something that does not make sense, and I'm already sorry for that. 
> 
> TW: being forced to eat something that you don't want to (meat)

Mildred knows that the world has prepared Gwendolyn for many things. The world prepared her for the misogyny that she would face in the political world, just as the world prepared her for her mother's lack of support at the first time she said she was in love with a girl. 

But the redhead believes that nothing prepared Gwen for the shock that crossed the blonde's face when, looking in the mirror after vomiting water and gastric juice, she noticed that chemotherapy was making her hair fall. 

The nurse notices this first. It is a lazy morning, between Gwendolyn's fourth and fifth chemotherapy, and both are free of responsibilities. After missing Gwen's first appointment, and finding the woman with crying red eyes when she got home, Mildred promised herself that she would be present at every step of her treatment. No matter what. 

Betsy was not happy with Mildred's work routine being paused a few days a week, but she understands at the moment that the redhead says that she _needs_ to take care of Gwendolyn with tears in her eyes and, thankfully, doesn't ask more. 

Gwendolyn clearly enjoys that most of the days she is free from her chemotherapy. Her doctor said that her fatigue is natural because her body is getting used to the new medications, but this feeling of tiredness is so intense that all she wants at all times is to lie down. Especially when it happens on Mildred's day off. 

And the redhead can't say no when Gwendolyn looks so adorable asking Mildred to hug her a little more. 

So they stay between the sheets until the nurse decides it's too much time for Gwendolyn's stomach to be empty, and then she goes down to the first floor with the intention of starting breakfast preparations. But it only lasts long enough for them to eat something and go back to cuddle in their bedroom. 

The blonde is always the one who cooks, regardless of the meal. And she does it with such a luminous smile that Mildred cannot imagine any better reality than just watching Gwen prowling around the kitchen, but at the same time, she fears that at some point she may not have the strength to do so. 

That morning, after a particularly sweet breakfast with pancakes and honey, they are back on the sheets and sweet kisses. The touch couldn't have been more welcome for Mildred, who melts between the pillows like butter on top of a hot pancake, but it all disappears in the blink of an eye. 

The redhead barely has time to open her eyes and observe a figure shaped like the other woman, running wildly to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the echo of the sound the nurse hears has become a routine. One of the only ones that is purely unhappy. 

Gwendolyn doesn't hold anything in her stomach. 

Drinks, food... She always eats, but it's only a matter of time before the woman runs to the bathroom and pours everything on the toilet. 

Mildred tries her best to give the blonde woman her space day after day, so the nurse eventually stays in bed for a few more minutes before following her. But this morning, when focusing on the pillow next to her, she decides to stay in bed a little longer. 

Her heart squeezes because there are many, many blonde hair strands in the pillow. 

It was possible. Mildred knows this, but testifying Gwendolyn's hair fall out is heartbreaking. A symbol of her femininity, which the redhead knows that the blonde woman carries with pride thanks to her mother, is falling and leaving her body. 

But then a panic becomes present. _What should she do?_ Gwen was still in the bathroom, probably putting out everything she ate, so _should she go there? And the hair strands? She must take it with her to the bathroom and throw it in the trash, right? But what about Gwendolyn? Should she watch while Mildred tosses her hair in the trash?_

Another noise sounds from the bathroom and thinking too quickly, the nurse takes the strands of hair and curls it before placing it under her own pillow, deciding that she would think about it after knowing if Gwendolyn was okay. 

But when she arrives in the bathroom, her vision is heartbreaking. Gwendolyn has the most frightened look in the world when she looks at her reflection in the mirror and her own hand, where many hairs are tangled. She is so scared that her face turns red, as if she was preparing herself to cry, but everything disappears when she sees Mildred standing at the door looking at her. 

First, she gets scared, but then she smiles, before quickly getting rid of the hair that is loose from her head as if it burns her skin. She looks embarrassed and breathes heavily twice before looking back at Mildred. 

She looks at the redhead with so much love on her face, even with an unspoken pain in her eyes. Mildred can just dream of being able to take all the pain out of them, but she barely knows how and that's why she stands there, looking at the woman she loves with all the love she can collect in herself, and begs her to see it. 

And she sees. 

Gwendolyn touches her own face and then Mildred's face as if she was trying to prove to herself that the redhead was really there. And Mildred wants to shout to her that she is there, and that she will be there forever, but Gwendolyn interrupts her thoughts with an apology drowned in flirtation for getting out of bed. And Mildred wants to scream again, this time to her soul. 

_Do not apologize for not feeling well. I love you more than anything. Forever. Do not apologize. It's not your fault._

She tries to put everything she thinks and feels in her eyes, and something inside her says that Gwen can read this before she starts to brush her teeth. Mildred is not the biggest fan of sharing moments as intimate as her hygiene with other people, or watching while others do it. Even as a nurse, there was something about this immeasurable power to just watch while someone else was so exposed to her. 

But with Gwen, she likes it. 

It is domestic and adorable, even under those conditions, which is why Mildred keeps looking at her and drinking every second that she is next to Gwendolyn. Even when she spits in the sink and washes her mouth with running water, the blonde looks like an angel to Mildred. 

But the nurse also sees the glow that floods Gwendolyn's skin in intensity day after day, and she hates that she can't do anything about it. 

A naive part of herself, who still lives stuck in the bottom of her heart, believes that whatever god that rules the world, it will not let Gwen suffer any more than that. The redhead tells herself that what she sees is _the worst Gwendolyn can get_ even though her experience as a nurse says otherwise. But the present proves to her wishes whispered in the wind with eyes full of tears while the woman she loves sleep beside her after a particularly bad day, are hardly satisfied. 

Gwendolyn feels severe pain in her breast. The previously pale skin is now slightly red, but all Gwen's doctor tells her is that this is normal. 

Gwendolyn's nausea is _normal_. Gwendolyn's fatigue is _normal_. Gwendolyn's headaches are _normal_. Gwendolyn's lack of appetite is _normal_. 

Gwendolyn did not deserve this reality as her normal, but if it were for her health, Mildred would accept this unfortunate arrangement temporarily. 

However, it does not help and, as the consultations went on, even more responses from the doctor became unsure. 

As a last resort, in a particularly difficult medical appointment, since Gwendolyn has now discovered that any sudden movement made her dizzy, Dr. Davis says loud and clear what he believes will have a positive effect. 

"Maybe you should go back to eating the meat of... You know?! Real animals... Like Chicken... or Bacon ... Anything that has _real_ blood." 

Mildred can see from the corner of her eye that Gwendolyn looks visibly pales, so she decides to answer for her. 

“She will. As her nurse, I will make sure of that. ” 

It was the only way they found for Mildred to be able to attend Gwendolyn's appointments, a noisy and unfortunate lie that played down Mildred's role in the blonde's life as a mere employee. Gwendolyn hated that, diminishing her public affection for the redhead in favor of forty-five minutes without suggestive looks directed at them inside an appointment. But Mildred didn't care enough to think until she managed to come up with something else, because with the excuse she could touch Gwendolyn's shoulders and eventually her hand in front of everyone in that hospital, and that was a good thing. Besides, nothing is more important to her than participating at that moment with Gwen. 

She promised that she would find someone to cure Gwendolyn. And she would participate in that until the blonde's breast lump disappeared. 

On the way home, the redhead decides to stop at a butcher shop. It may be too soon, but if it will help Gwendolyn, Mildred is prepared to kill an animal with her bare hands if necessary. When they arrive at the butcher shop, the blonde remains passive beside her, and asks to wait in the car while Mildred buys what she needs. 

The redhead doesn't know exactly what to buy, but that butcher shop is always empty, so Mildred decides that just one steak is enough. Just as a start. 

When the nurse returns to the car, she knows that Gwendolyn cried. Her eyes are red, as is the tip of her nose, and she tries to look away from Mildred. Mildred wants to say something meaningful, but just like before, she can't. So, while the redhead drives, she takes her right hand to the woman's thigh beside her and squeezes. It's just a single act, but it's enough for the blonde woman to smile shyly next to her before grabbing Mildred's hand and squeezing it to. 

Mildred is not that amazing when it comes to work on the kitchen, but she knows how to make something eatable, so the nurse tells Gwendolyn to go take a shower because she will prepare dinner for both of them. 

When she comes down the stairs, wearing comfortable pajamas, Gwendolyn still has red eyes. It is as if someone has carelessly poured a reddish dye into the blue-green sea that Mildred loves so much, and she hates it. Hoping to erase that stain, the nurse holds Gwendolyn's face and kisses her on the lips. 

She is sweet, with no subsequent motives, and the blonde melts into her touch. 

They eat in some uncomfortable silence. Mildred watches as the blonde uses her fork to dance with the meat on her plate, never bringing it up to her lips. But maybe she is not so good at staying hidden while watching Gwen eat, since quickly her clear eyes are directed at Mildred too. 

"We can try again tomorrow...", Mildred says in a whisper as she approaches Gwen, and she ends by pressing a kiss on her cheek. 

But Gwendolyn just closes her eyes and shakes her head negatively, still in silence. Then she takes a piece of the steak that is already cut on her plate and puts it in her mouth on a quick impulse. And there they are again, Gwen's red eyes, which quickly fill with tears. Her nose is red and she sniffs twice before preparing herself to speak, and Mildred imagines that she would look adorable if it were a typical flu, but there is so much pain in Gwen's eyes that she just waits for what the blonde will say with her heart hurting with the view. 

"Maybe... You should take a shower since you finished your dinner.", The blonde says carefully after swallowing the first piece, already preparing to cut another piece of meat, "I'll finish mine and we can read one of my new books together on the couch. ” 

_Space._ It is a silent request in the midst of ramblings only to not hurt Mildred, and the redhead just accepts it as she gets up and caresses Gwen's shoulder before heading to the bathroom in their room, but before that, she hears sounds. 

First, a touch of silverware on the plate, then a sob, and more touches on the silverware. 

Mildred doesn't know if it is for hormones or anguish at being forced to eat what she clearly didn't want to, just to preserve her health, but what she does know is that Gwendolyn is crying. 

Mildred has never seen a person cry while eating, and she still doesn't see, as she just listens. But it still sounds brutal, because it sounds like it hurt Gwen physically, and a part of her wants to ask why. _But maybe one day._ Tears also blur Mildred's view at the top of the stairs, and it looks comical if it were in a movie. Two people crying, each one their own atmosphere, but for the same reason. 

A part of Mildred yells at herself to go and comfort the woman she loves hugging her. But she won't know what to say. Gwendolyn is a strong woman, but now she cries like a baby and Mildred can hear the sound of the older woman's sobs, trying futilely to control her breathing so that the redhead, when she returns to the kitchen after her shower, doesn't find her in that situation. 

And that is more than enough. 

Then, from the top of their stairs and with tears running from their eyes, Mildred makes another promise to herself and to any entity that is listening to her. 

_Fuck the cancer. Fuck Dr. Davis. We will find another way. There has to be another way._

At first, it is so complicated. It's horrible to look for something she barely knows if it even exists, but she can't even imagine what it would be like to give up. 

Betsy listens carefully when Mildred tells her, over a shared lunch, that she needs to find another treatment so they come up with a relatively convincing plan. _Mildred wants to specialize in treatments for the cure of cancer, so she needs to know new treatments that are urgently successful, and so anyone and everyone who works at the hospital needs to let Betsy or Mildred know if they hear about something, for the hospital._ It's vague, and they get confused looks when they make the announcement, but they still hear voices in agreement, and relax. 

Mildred also loses weight. She was getting weight, now that she started living with Gwendolyn, caught in the taste of the flavor of the food that the woman she loves cooks. It sounds sentimental, she knows. She also knows that this is what is expected for a man from a heterosexual marriage - and the thought causes a momentary wrapping in her stomach just to imagine that society expects a man to delight in the grace that is sharing life with Gwen - but when the blonde loses weight fast, Mildred feels like she is running out of time. 

Eating the lunch that Gwendolyn prepared for her sounds like a luxury when the redhead has several complicated pamphlets from other hospitals to read on her table. In those moments, when her sandwich is resting in the refrigerator of the hospital kitchen, Mildred really wishes she had studied to be a nurse so that she would not waste precious time consulting medical terms in a dictionary. 

She could do this at home, with the warmth of a hot and sweet cinnamon tea made by Gwendolyn while both seek treatments and new chemotherapies - that's what Betsy told her on the first day that her research started - but Mildred denies it. She doesn't want Gwen to know, not yet at least. 

Because she doesn't want to give false hope to her now, when Gwendolyn is so weak that she can barely sleep a full night because she feels sick even while she is asleep. 

She will find the cure first. 

That's all she has to do, and she has to do it right. 

She tried to save Edmund and failed, after all, he will be killed in a few weeks and there is nothing she can do to change his destiny. But she cannot fail with Gwendolyn. 

And then the answer comes to her. 

There is a new nurse at Lucia's Hospital, among those she trained the day Travor and Andrew went to dinner with her and Gwendolyn, and her name is Paulina. She has dark hair and light eyes, full lips, and sun-kissed skin. She is also shy, barely talks to co-workers and consequently never spoke to Mildred. But one day, when the redhead can barely think of anything but return to Gwendolyn's arms at the end of her shift, Paulina is waiting for the redhead leaning against her green car with her own purse and a big envelope in her hand. As she approaches, Mildred thinks what Paulina might want, but the reality surprises her, along with the woman's Mexican accent. 

She begins by talking about her grandmother, and the cancer she discovered three years ago. She talks about how destroyed she was when she found out that the woman who lives in her heart did not intend to leave Mexico to start treatment since the lady found the gesture extremely unnecessary since the throat cancer was too advanced to be treated and she wanted to die in the country she was born. Her aunts tried for months, until they convinced her to try a treatment there, just a few cities away from her hometown. 

"In eight weeks she was able to eat normally and speak without any pain.", The young nurse says and Mildred believes her eyes shine towards Paulina, and she barely pays attention to anything around her, being able to be hit by a ray and barely notice, focusing only on the voice of the young nurse who continues to speak, "And then her doctor said that he would cure her... The whole family found it absurd, after all, even with the advances it seemed too late..." 

"And...?" 

“Two days ago my grandmother called me. There is no more cancer anymore. ”, Mildred sighs loudly when she hears the girl's conviction and she is barely able to hold the tears in her eyes, trapped in a cloud of hope so thick and that she hardly hears Paulina continue to speak, “And they are apparently being very successful in many other types of chemotherapy in other patients, such as uterus and breast cancer, even in advanced stages like my grandma... So I believe this is a good place for you to do your research, Miss Ratched.”

Tears now flow freely down her face, because she has never been so relieved. Hope shines within her pores and, she is sure that Paulina can see this because she smiles at the nurse and pats her shoulder. But the contact is strange, uncomfortable, and that's why the redhead walks away from her touch, even with a guilty smile on her face. 

“I think you are correct, Miss Paulina. Could you tell me the name of this city and the specific doctor? So that my contact with him can be executed as soon as possible.” 

And as if words awaken something in the younger woman, she takes a momentary fright and quickly replies: 

“Yes, yes. So... That's all I know about the place... ”, and then she hands the envelope to Mildred, who takes it by surprise, but that quickly holds it against her chest as if it were the most precious thing that she already touches. 

"Thank you very much, Miss Paulina.", The redhead is still not sure if she said the girl's name correctly, but she says it with so much feeling, and something tells her that Paulina understands, even if she just nods in her direction before to walk away and mumble a _good night_. 

It only takes a few seconds, but Mildred's brain works against her and a bitter question escapes her lips, a little too loudly. 

“Did you say that to anyone else?”, Her voice comes out mean, and for a moment she regrets that Paulina's gaze becomes scared, even from afar. 

“Not really. I thought of saying first to Miss. Bucket, but I ended up prioritizing you since you are the interested one in this subject... Did I do something wrong?” 

“No. No, quite the opposite. You did it right! And I would like you not to share this information with anyone, let's just not give false hope to the hospital before I even talk to this doctor.”

What she receives in response is just an affirmative nod, and that is enough for Mildred, who gets into her own car and drives down the road to Gwendolyn's house. At each red traffic light, the redhead looks at the envelope in the passenger seat, as if to prove to herself that it exists, and smiles at the possibility that she lives in those papers. 

Cure. Hope. 

When Mildred arrives home, she applies some makeup powder that she has in the car before she gets in, in an attempt to erase the remnants of her dry tears dry on her cheeks. But then reality hits her. 

She cannot take the envelope inside. At least not while she isn't sure if it will heal Gwendolyn. That's why Mildred leaves the envelope under her bank and goes into the house. 

Gwen is sitting on the couch, doing some kind of Word Search without any explicit indications that Mildred doesn't understand much, but she doesn't care either. After all, nothing matters when Gwen looks away from the paper and focuses on her, with a smile on her face. 

The night passes and Gwendolyn simply knows that Mildred is different. She is smiling like never before, and kisses her entire face until the blonde woman eventually laughs because it starts to tickle. But at the same time, Gwen does not know if it is prudent to ask what happened, after all she doesn't know a lot about what Mildred is like when she is in love. And even though the caresses are more intense, as if they were celebrating something she is not aware of, Gwendolyn does not care. Because she feels so loved, and it is as if that feeling alone gives her the strength to wake up every morning, just to see the brown eyes that she loves so much again. 

They lie down hugging each other at bedtime, but Gwen is the only one who sleeps. 

Mildred's mind just can't shut down, and she takes advantage of the fact that her shift will start two hours later in the next morning - because one of Gwendolyn's terrible chemotherapy sessions, which was supposed to happen in the morning, has been delayed - and she slips out of bed. 

The nurse knows that Gwen has a flashlight somewhere because they used it to scare a cat out of their garden days ago, so she searches for the object as if her soul depends on it. And maybe it depends. 

It is just over 11 pm, but Mildred doesn't care. She just puts one of Gwendolyn's coat on top of her nightgown and runs to her car, opening it and locking herself inside. The street is deserted, but even so, she locked the house fearing that even so close to her, someone might go unnoticed and harm the woman Mildred loves with all her heart. 

And so, she opens the envelope and clears the papers with the flashlight. They are for the most part leaflets, pamphlets, and flyers disseminating new and significant types of chemotherapy - both for humans and in pets cancer - but there are also newspaper articles. Some are in English, talking about awards that the Mexican pharmaceutical industry won thanks to these new treatments, but others are in Spanish, which momentarily frustrates Mildred's soul. But soon the redhead notices that the pages in Spanish are marked by numbers with a blue pen and, before having time to ask herself what they mean, she finds some paper with the same title numbers, before a brief summary on each one. Paulina must have written it, in lovely and hurry handwriting and with mistakes here or there, but the gesture still filled Mildred's heart with gratitude. They are pages about recovered patients, and Mildred's heart swells with hope just by looking at the patients' smiling faces in the photos that illustrate the newspapers. 

Maybe Gwendolyn was also smiling at one of them someday. 

When the redhead comes back into the house, she has a smile on her face and the name of three things in her memory - a man, a city, and a hospital - and that's more than enough to make her sleep like a baby until the next morning. 

Dr. Juan Adré. Mazatlan city, in Mexico. And Nuevo Edén Medical Center. 

In the next few days, Mildred looks at the papers more calmly and ends up finding something that she didn't pay attention before. In one of the pamphlets, there is a number of some radio station that talks about the treatments, and that eventually discusses and explains how they treat each patient. And that afternoon, when Mildred takes Gwendolyn to the doctor in the blonde's car, she leaves Gwen alone for ten minutes to listen to the radio. 

The excuse she uses is that she is going to smoke a little, and it is significant because Gwendolyn does not question her. Mildred struggles a little to find the right one, and then struggles a little more because the Mexican doctor's voice sounds much more powerful than the English translator's, but the words she can capture still make her eyes water with tears. 

Therapy. Painless. Cure. Mistletoe. 

And when she returns to Gwendolyn, finding the woman so fragile and unhappy as she watches the green landscape reflected by the window, Mildred feels that it is time to share her research. 

But Gwen is so weak. 

Since the start of the chemotherapy sessions, Gwen came home and took a shower. It was almost like a ritual, which needed to be punctual, and it happened for weeks until Mildred had the courage and asked her why. 

"I just want to get rid of that hospital smell that is stuck in me." 

It's a short answer and it sounds harsh, but it creates millions of possibilities in the nurse's mind and that's why Mildred says she'll be taking a shower too. Doubt shines in the redhead's eyes, silent and constantly, but before she can even climb the stairs, after returning from work the next day, Gwendolyn stops her: 

"Hey... Give me at least a kiss first, darling.", It's sweet and soft, but Mildred dodges and says she wants to take a shower first, and only then she can hug and kiss the blonde one as much as she wishes. 

Gwen's mind works fast, trying to understand what instigated this distance, and her own words shine in her memory. So she holds the face of the woman she loves and approaches her until their noses touch before whispering: 

“The hospital smell in you is the smell of your work, your vocation, and your passion for helping others. The hospital smell in me is the smell of my illness. Now, hug me.” 

And how can she deny it? 

Then Mildred hugs her and mumbles several _"are you sure?"_ against the skin of Gwendolyn's neck that was never answered verbally, just by kissing against her entire face, and that worth more than all the words in the world. 

But that afternoon, it is the first time that the blonde is unable to climb the stairs alone and asks to stay in the living room. Mildred just nods in agreement, and before going upstairs to get the blonde's pajamas, she leaves a kiss on her forehead. 

When the nurse returns, she has in her arms Gwendolyn's pajamas, her nightgown, and also a blanket, and she places it on top of Gwen's legs after helping her change. The blonde is already without any makeup, probably removing the makeup powder, eyelash mask, and clear lipstick in the not-much-used bathroom next to the kitchen, and now Gwen patiently drinks a glass of water. The house is locked, doors and windows, and as there is nothing to fear, Mildred takes advantage of it sitting on the floor and resting her head on the lap of the blonde woman already wearing her own nightgown. 

It is a pleasant and extremely comfortable position. Mainly because it comes with her hand caressing Gwendolyn's belly, and the blonde's fingers caressing her hair carefully, while she reads the daily news in the newspaper. 

But today, the hand that caressed her hair so nicely is around a glass cup of water, and the voice that should have sounded sweet when updating her on any news, sounds cold and broken. 

"I know... the chemotherapy's just started... but I can't believe how awful I feel already." 

_Not for long_ is what the nurse almost feels escaping from her tongue, but Mildred breathes and tries her best to calm down, but still paints a simple smile on her lips while looking at Gwen. And Gwendolyn reflects the look with curiosity. 

"What?", The question is still confused, but the confusion lasts only a few seconds until Gwen can read Mildred's face as if it were her own, "You have a plan... Rattling around in that pretty little head of yours." 

And after that, the blonde one smiles. 

Mildred's first reflex is to shake her head negatively, and she even does it. She wants to say that Gwen is wrong, at least so that she can paint a clear speech inside her mind to present to Gwendolyn. But the redhead doesn't want to lie anymore, and that's why she starts. 

First, she talks about her brother. About how she tried to save him, but that now, as she knows there is nothing she can do, she feels she can move on. They can. 

It's funny how genuine Gwendolyn's surprise is when Mildred talks about Mexico. She rests her back on the chair as if she had been scared by a child, and the redhead wishes to surprise her whenever she has the opportunity, for many, many years. Maybe with trips that cross the ocean, like France... or Germany... 

But the surprise becomes melancholy in front of her eyes. And now Gwendolyn looks exactly like the scared and angry woman who walked away from her when Mildred said she loved her a month ago, filled with fear, but still with an acceptance reflected in her features that the redhead is slow to understand where she comes from. When the nurse understands, it is too late to stop the tears that are running down her face. 

Gwendolyn talks with her eyes closed, about dying in a beach chair watching the sun go down, but she opens her eyes to focus on Mildred, and the redhead can see the sea reflected in them while the blonde says that there Mildred will be free to complete her story. Her life. 

And Mildred feels truly teleported to that moment when so many "I love you" escaped through her tongue and the woman in front of her just shook her head, trapped and trying to get her life out of Mildred's. 

It is like an impulse inside the nurse's mind, almost impossible to arrest, that screams for her to answer the same thing that she answered for the blonde woman a month ago. _Our life._ But she holds it inside, while touching the breast of the woman she loves with a trembling pointer finger, and allows more tears to trickle down her face while she makes an honest request. 

"Don't talk like that...", comes out so broken by her lips, and thanks to the blurred vision of tears, Mildred sees only a pale silhouette nodding in front of her. 

"I mean it... This has been the most... astonishing... luminous month... of my life." 

It is a declaration so beautiful and so sincere that Mildred selfishly wants to pause the time, so she can stay until the world ends looking at Gwendolyn's loving gaze directed at her. A look that shines at how much she is loved, how much she is needed, how much she has made a difference, and she wants Gwendolyn to see the same in her eyes. 

But her wish cannot come true because time cannot pause. There is a bright hope that bears the name of the first garden, and that hope can save Gwendolyn. And that hope it's so powerful that could make her surprise Gwen in the best way for years to come. 

When Mildred speaks again, she drops everything. About the research, about the renowned doctor, and about the reports of patients who were once close to death, and Gwendolyn's eyes close again as if Mildred's hope could hurt her. But Mildred, can't help it. She has always been a dreamer, and if there is a chance to live her life's dream with the woman she loves, she will grab it. 

"Oh Mildred... Mildred... That does sound like heaven, doesn't it?", Is still melancholy and hopeless, but Mildred is satisfied for now. And when Gwen kisses her, she wants to pass on the taste of hope by her tongue to the woman she loves so much. 

Gwendolyn, on the other hand, never liked drastic changes. She lived her first years close to her father's family, and then her mother got a meaningful job at a restaurant two cities apart, and that inspired the first time that she move. 

She had to move again when she went to school, as her grandmother did not want her to study away from her cousins, and then she moved again, this time for to college, living in a community with people so different from her and what she was used to. And after all of this, Gwen had to travel for a whole year to find a newspaper that trusted her skills for several years, but she can never complain so much about these trips since it was one of them that she met Travor. 

The travels and moves continued, until she started working for former Governor Christian Williams, then for John Wilson Diaz, and only then to work for the current Governor George Milburn. 

It was awful. Each time she moves was absurd and, even though she was open to meeting new people, Gwendolyn never liked these modifications in her routine. She was skeptical, determined, and unchanging. 

But she was also weak, especially for love. And Gwen felt her heart even weaker when it came to Mildred Ratched. 

Mildred Ratched and her brown chocolate eyes flooded with tears asking her to give her a chance for this change while she handed her pamphlets, newspapers, and maps of a beach town called Mazatlan. In Mexico. 

She understood that it must be easy for Mildred, who spent her life between houses and traveling to find her brother, without growing any roots in any state, just to look at her face and ask when she would be ready to pack. 

Connecticut? No. To Nevada? No. To Georgia? No. 

But to Mexico. 

It's lovely when Gwendolyn thinks about dying there. Spending the last months of her life intoxicated in alcohol and watching carefree children dance by the beach, while she holds Mildred's hand tightly with hers so that the last thing she feels is the icy touch of the fingers of the woman she loves against her. But... chemotherapy in Mexico? Really starting a new journey and a new everything to a new treatment? 

And what to do if the miraculous treatment went wrong with her, of all people? There was another woman doing the same chemotherapy as she is in the same hospital as she is now, Mary Goodewn was her name, and she was responding well. What was the guarantee that Gwendolyn had to go to the new doctor and that the same unhappiness will not happen again? 

Suffering in an unknown place for endless days, running in search of a relief that would not come, is not how Gwendolyn wants to die. 

But the newspaper stories are compelling and for the first time, Gwendolyn is grateful for having learned Spanish when she had the chance. 

John Wilson Diaz was a good man, the best politician the blonde one has ever worked with. Always with a smile on his face and his strong accent, he was the only candidate she worked for and who was more concerned with what being in politics meant for the population instead of the digits of his salary paid by the people. It was a pity that she was unable to elect him. But in the two years that Gwen worked faithfully with the man, the son of a Mexican father and a U.S native mother, the blonde one learned a little Spanish. 

Gwendolyn was always an avid student, taking advantage of any and all opportunities that she was given to learn it all, and when he offered to teach her some Spanish, just to be able to speak to her in secret between press conferences, Gwen accepted. She can't say it was simple after all Gwendolyn wouldn't be able to count on her fingers how many times she got confused trying to differentiate a question from a declaration just by the tone of his voice, but over time it worked well. She couldn't speak clearly, but she understood any speech and was able to read the writings, even if only in her mind. 

And that was more than enough to understand the newspaper articles scattered on the floor were, in fact, convincing. 

The newspapers smelled of something she didn't know she could still feel. Hope. 

And it is a hope that grows in her chest every day that she spends thinking about the idea. Mildred doesn't push her once. Even giving her hopeful looks at dinner and before going to sleep, she doesn't say a word. They make love sweetly, with Mildred looking deep into her eyes as she comes, but she still doesn't ask anything about Mexico. 

Until another chemotherapy session with her current doctor takes place, one in which Mildred is obviously present and keeping her company, and at the end of that session Gwendolyn faints. 

The blonde doesn't remember much of what happened, just some confusion and feeling her face getting hot. But Mildred remembers everything, especially what she felt. 

Desperation. 

Gwendolyn's body fell and even trying, Mildred was unable to lift her up, so she just rested the blonde's head on her lap while trying to wake her up. Mary Goodewn, the recovering patient, was the one who called the hospital nurses, and when they take Gwen to a temporary room, Mildred feels like that night. 

In the ball. 

Her throat tastes bitter, her eyes are red and watery, and she's sure her nose is red. Her heart is beating so fast, and the nurse who guided her to Gwendolyn said that the blonde will wake up in a short time, but that does not calm her wild chest beats. This time there is nothing for Mildred to confess to the blonde, but she still feels the same pain she felt that night looking at Gwen and not seeing her loving eyes open. 

It is probably the first time that people in the hospital look at her with confusion, lost amidst all the affection that she pours out while sitting and waiting until Gwen wakes up beside her bed. 

To wait. 

Mildred was never good at waiting. The redhead always worked to do what was necessary, just not to wait. From her years at the orphanage, through her years among homes of adults who swore to be responsible, to her sacrifices to save Edmund. But with Gwen she has to wait, both when the older woman was shot and now. 

And the redhead feels that it can kill her. 

But then the hand she holds moves, and the nurse feels her body coming back to life as she watches the clear eyes of the woman she loves so much to focus on her face. 

"I'm sorry..." 

“No, no, no, no!”, Mildred doesn't want that, even though her eyes are red and possibly swollen from crying, she doesn't want to hear Gwendolyn apologize for something she didn't choose, “Don't be sorry, it's not your fault." 

Gwendolyn feels so weak that she can't find the strength to do anything but nod. She wants to vomit, but is not sure if there is anything in her stomach for that. And it is so unfair. 

She is finally living with someone she loves romantically, someone she is in love with. She finally has the opportunity to live the true love that she has dreamed of all her life. But her body is miserable and refuses to live it to the fullest, and it makes tears run down her face. 

But Gwendolyn remembers the hope printed on the papers and stretches her fingers until she touches and caresses Mildred's face, who closes her eyes and appreciates the closeness without regard to the possibility of someone entering that room. 

"If Mazatlan is... worse than here... can we go back?" 

_It won't be_ it's Mildred wants to yell at her as a smile grows on her lips, but instead, she approaches the newly awake woman and wipes the tears from her cheek before speaking. 

"We will do only what you want." 

"So ... I can't wait to go home... and pack.", And even gasping and with a sleepy voice, Gwendolyn finishes talking smiling. 

And Mildred never wanted to kiss her so badly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come to cry on my lap on my twitter @hausofval, or on my tumblr @honeysorwell (I'm learning how to use this stuff and I'm writing character x reader stuff there...) 
> 
> So comment here what you think or just say hello


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